Raising a child with special educational needs brings moments that are deeply beautiful, and quietly heartbreaking. There’s a sweetness in the way they see the world, but also a vulnerability that reminds us, as parents, how much extra we carry to keep them safe.
Recently, someone new in the street kindly took in a parcel for us while my son and I were out.
When we returned home and I saw the delivery update from Amazon, we decided to walk over together and collect it. I planned to knock, thank her, and head back.
But the moment she opened the door, my son stepped straight inside without hesitation. He gave her a big hug and handed her his empty bottle — assuming, in his world, that everyone welcomes him like family. I quickly apologised, and thankfully, she was lovely and very understanding.
But the truth is, not everyone would be. And that’s what stayed with me. While I’m so grateful this person was kind and accepting, it also reminded me just how vulnerable our children can be. Their open hearts and trusting natures are beautiful — but they don’t always come with the awareness of social boundaries or personal safety.
Later at home, when I spoke to my son about what happened, he told me he thought she’d bought him the toy because it had been at her house. To him, it made perfect sense. In his mind, this new person was now a friend who gives gifts and takes his rubbish — just like we do at home.
And that’s the bittersweet reality of being a SEN parent: our children can be so trusting, so beautifully unfiltered — and also so vulnerable.
We’re constantly navigating the balance between letting them explore and keeping them safe, knowing full well the world won’t always be soft or patient.
This moment was a gift — not just for the joy in my son’s heart, but as a gentle reminder to me: it only takes one less understanding person to change how that moment feels.