The moment my fourteen-year-old son, Leo, imitated our waiter, the entire restaurant seemed to become quiet. Sam, a young man with Down syndrome, had just placed a basket of bread on our table and carefully explained the evening specials. When Sam turned away, Leo copied the way he spoke and exaggerated his movements. A couple sitting nearby looked uncomfortable, and another family stopped their conversation. Leo smiled as though he expected everyone to laugh, but nobody did. I felt a wave of disappointment and embarrassment. I paid our bill, left Sam a generous tip, apologized to him sincerely, and drove my son home in silence. Once we arrived, I placed an old wooden box on the kitchen table. “Leo,” I said, “this contains the biggest mistake I ever made.”
Inside the box were photographs, handwritten letters, an old basketball ticket, and a green-and-white friendship bracelet I had kept for nearly twenty years. The photographs showed a boy named Daniel. He also had Down syndrome, and when I was sixteen, he had been one of my closest friends. It was a difficult period in my life because my father had recently passed away. While many teenagers did not know how to comfort me, Daniel simply stayed beside me. He shared his lunch, remembered the little things I liked, and told silly jokes until I eventually smiled again. He never expected me to stop being sad. He simply made sure I did not feel alone. Daniel was thoughtful, patient, and loyal, and his friendship meant more to me than I understood at the time.
Unfortunately, some students at school treated Daniel unfairly because he was different. One afternoon, a group of students began making unkind comments when Daniel walked toward us. I wanted to fit in with the group, so instead of standing up for my friend, I laughed along with them. It lasted only a few seconds, but Daniel heard me. I saw his expression change before he quietly walked away. I wanted to apologize afterward, but before I had the chance, I learned that Daniel and his family had moved to another state. He had left one letter for me. The letter was simple. He thanked me for being his friend and wished that I would “smile lots.” I had carried that letter with me for years because it reminded me of the friendship I had failed to appreciate.
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