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A Special Child

His face, an innocent pale canvas turned quickly, as a single tear streamed down his now rose colored cheeks.

A scream, as his body whipped viciously and he turned for shelter, a quiet corner, visible to all, but to him a sanctuary.

What had set him off was a mystery, as it was the week before and would be the week after.

His pain, his fear and his frustrations I shared, because I couldn't understand it, just the way he couldn't.

His mind deemed broken by science and a system, but at times, this little boy's compassion was of a higher state.

Five years later he stands, hands in his pockets, a sport coat and perfect hair. This handsome boy ready for his dance.

He makes a joke and blushes. Those pale cheeks, becoming red, but there are no tears.

That night he won't run to a corner, but to center stage. His mom will smile, then probably cry.

He's come a long way. Longer than any of the others and it reminds me, what it's like to be proud of a child.

In time, it will be a faded memory for a young man, but for me, I felt, if only briefly, the pride of a parent and I'll cherish that  forever.

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