Letter: Questions I’m not prepared to answer
I want to present this story on behalf of my 27-year-old autistic son. We reside in a small sleepy town, in Salisbury. On Monday, my son went to Zagbee’s to get his favorite meal while I was next door at the car wash.
An elderly man tripped and fell in the parking lot going to his vehicle. My son saw him fall, ran to assist him to his feet and placed him into his vehicle. Instead of thank you, the elderly man told my son that “I didn’t need any help from your kind. … You people are a nuisance and need to go back to Africa.”
I have always taught my son to be godly, helping and assisting everyone, no matter if they’re white, Asian, Black or candy-striped. We spend many hours volunteering at the local homeless shelter. He’s always helping veterans and will give his last dollar to those needy homeless on the street corner. On cold days, on our morning breakfast runs, he always buys hot coffee and breakfast biscuits for a veteran and his wife living behind some dumpsters in our city.
I am his mother, and this is the first time that I have heard unfounded pain in his voice from that incident. His world and from what I have distilled in him has been goodness and to treat people with kindness, So, this man’s actions came as quite a surprise to him and raised some questions that I’m not prepared to answer.
— Damaris Davis
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