Last night Ben and I lay looking up into a black sky filled with stars. Our bodies sunk into a yellow bean-bag mat and he draped an arm across me. As we took in the mystery and majesty of the immense sky, our breathing slowed.
"If you see a shooting star, you can make a wish," said the recreation therapist leading us through our simulated journey into space in the Snoezelen room.
"I wish I could walk," said a young boy.
"I wish my mom and dad would get back together," said another boy.
"I wish," Ben signed, and then he made the sign for "home."
"If you see a shooting star, you can make a wish," said the recreation therapist leading us through our simulated journey into space in the Snoezelen room.
"I wish I could walk," said a young boy.
"I wish my mom and dad would get back together," said another boy.
"I wish," Ben signed, and then he made the sign for "home."
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