Un joli poème (en anglais) :
This Child of Mine (who hates being called boy or kid!)
He is wired differently
To you and me,
This child of mine.
He doesn't like loud noises
Or dark spaces
Or strangers touching his head.
His brain can see in an instant the pattern,
The layout,
The solution to a puzzle.
He can tell you every gun invented.
The year,
The range,
The calibre.
But he cannot tie his shoelaces at 11.
He reads the periodic table for pleasure.
Loves fusion
And nanotechnology
And Crispr
But he cannot tell the time from a clock face.
He is different this child of mine.
Has no filters,
Speaks his mind,
Has no pause button
But he hugs me and tells me he loves me every day.
He has triggers this child of mine,
Open-mouthed chewing,
Enclosed spaces,
Broken routines
But he'll rescue drowning insects every time.
He is different this child of mine,
A challenge,
A frustration,
A despair
But his humour makes me laugh every day.
He is different this child of mine,
He is loving,
He is kind,
He is generous
But the world judges,
Sees only the outbursts and over-reactions.
He is wired differently this child of mine,
And my role is to guide him,
Soothe him,
Give him tools
To negotiate this confusing world of emotion he fails to grasp.
He is different this child of mine,
His name is Tristan,
Not boy,
Not kid.
I hope that his road through life will be one of kindness and understanding.
http://www.bbc.com/news/education-43142480