"Never have five letters cut so deep": a dad's heartbreaking realisation his son with autism has no friends

Bob Cornelius shared this photo on Facebook, asking parents to teach their kids about embracing differences in others.
Bob Cornelius shared this photo on Facebook, asking parents to teach their kids about embracing differences in others. Photo: Facebook/Bob Cornelius

A father has shared the emotional moment five small letters, written by his son, broke his heart.

In a post to his Facebook page, Bob Cornelius of Kansas City, writes that his 11-year-old boy Christopher is on the autism spectrum. 

During the week, Cornelius visited his son's school where he saw one of Christopher's class projects. It was a list - collecting "The Inside Scoop" about students and all of their favourite things.

Cornelius snapped a picture of his son's work, noting, "It was only after I got home that something stood out upon closer review."

Next to the statement, "Some of my friends are," the little boy had written, "No one."

No one.

"Do you guys remember, a couple of weeks ago, the massive amount of press that the Florida State Football player got when he sat down at the lunch table with an autistic boy that was eating alone?" Cornelius writes.

The dad explained that the player didn't know the little boy was on the autism spectrum when he sat down, he simply "saw a boy eating lunch all by himself and decided to join him". What made the story great, Cornelius continued, is that the moment wasn't staged. "It was just a real moment of human kindness."

After the photo went viral, Cornelius says the follow-up story was that the little boy no longer ate by himself. "The other kids NOW were sitting with him and patting him on the back." Something that wasn't right was fixed, he wrote, tied up neatly with "a pretty little bow of kindness and understanding".

And yet, for Cornelius, the photo raised one painful question. "Where were those kids prior to this child being thrust into the spotlight?"

They're in the picture, he writes. But they're sitting at other tables, ignoring the little boy. And, had the football player not joined him that day, if the media hadn't picked up the story, that kid, Cornelius says, would still be sitting alone.

Cornelius is quick to identify that it's not the children's fault, "That's the saddest part," he says. Rather, they haven't been taught – by their teachers or their parents – "to embrace and accept the differences of others".

"I don't mean to imply that parents that don't have this conversation with their kids are bad people," the father writes, "but only that somewhere in between working, soccer practice, and homework, it never occurred to them to have this particular conversation."

Cornelius explains that over the years, his son has watched his brothers having sleepovers and has asked if he could have someone over, too.

And yet, when asked whom he'd like to invite, instead of answering, Cornelius says, "[Christopher] would flap his arms and stim."

Cornelius writes:

He didn't have an answer because he didn't have a name.

Because he didn't have a friend.

He's never had a friend.

Ever.

He just turned eleven.

And because he's had no friends....there was no one to invite.

Christopher, he describes, is smart, engaging and has a great sense of humour. "However," he writes, "because he needs the input," he will spontaneously flap his arms and occasionally make loud noises. It you're not used to it, he admits, it's normal to feel embarrassed "as you will have all eyes in the room on you".

And, he says, Christopher will ask the same question fifty times in a short period.

At the end of the day, Cornelius acknowledges, it comes down to compassion, empathy and understanding.

"But mostly empathy," he writes. "Not from you guys, but from your children."

For Cornelius, Christopher's answer: "no one" hit home.

"Never have five letters cut so deep," he writes.

With no easy solution, Cornelius decided to share his story – hoping it would prompt parents to have a conversation with their kids about children with special needs.

They notice when they're being teased, he explains. They understand more than we give them credit for, they notice when they're being excluded.

And this hurts.

Asking readers of his post for two favours, Cornelius implored parents to share his post to help raise awareness.

"Awareness and empathy," he says, "Are the only solutions I can come up with."

He also asked parents to speak to their kids – and to show them examples of "feel-good stories" about children with special needs being included – something, he says, the internet is full of.

"These stories are newsworthy because they are unusual," he writes. "We are not used to hearing about kids being kind to those that are different and unique."

Recognising that his post "wont change the world", Cornelius adds that his son wants a voice, a voice that he doesn't have.

He writes:

And the child that will finally reach out to him, that will help him, that will include him, will be the kindest child, the child that does the right thing by going above and beyond.

He will be Charlie Bucket.

And that child will be Christopher's first true friend.

Cornelius' words have since gone viral, shared almost 50,000 times as of Monday. In an update, the grateful dad said he'd been inundated with message requests from kids asking if they could write to Christopher to tell him he has "a friend out there".

"This is a kind act. This is a selfless act, motivated, primarily by empathy, I would imagine,' he writes.

"And that IS what the message is about." 

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