The new kid in town

He's a handsome twelve year old with sandy blonde hair and a dainty nose that turns up slightly just like his mother's.  He recites Dr. Seuss and repeats movies word for word.  He has autism.

This morning as we scooted into our usual front row seats I noticed he was seated next to us.   Last week's trains had been replaced by a bright red matchbox car and blue van.  He drove them up and down the length of the bench throughout the announcements and opening song, stopping only long enough to fold his arms for the prayer.  The bench and floor no longer seemed to interest him and just before the sacrament began his cars made a pathway over to a churchgoers leg.  Up and down the newly pressed suit pants went the red car.  Up and down the newly pressed suit pants went the blue van.  His mother was sitting reverently a row away.

As the sacrament was blessed and passed I watched with intrigue as this gentleman closed his eyes in reverence, giving little notice to the twelve year old having a crash up derby on his knee.  A deacon stooped down to offer the bread to the matchbox car driver and then moved forward, offering it to an unlikely friend.  I couldn't help but think that the man was keeping the very covenants he had gone to church that day to renew, to take upon himself the name of Christ.  I watched as that little boy drove his car up and down the pant leg of that saint over the next hour and thought, "now that is Christlike love."