Dear Lisa, a cashier at Wendy’s:
Today, my 10-year-old son and I visited your restaurant during your shift for lunch. I noticed that when you asked him how he was doing, his somewhat jumbled response seemed to take you by surprise. You looked at me for a moment before returning your attention to him as he continued talking, a familiar scenario in our lives. As his dedicated speech coach, I gently prompted him, “You can say, ‘I’m good!’”
Then, to my astonishment, you took the initiative. Instead of directing your questions to me, you engaged him directly about his order. He responded, and you leaned in, saying, “I think you want a cup of water, right?” He nodded affirmatively. “Aren’t you getting anything to eat? What else?” After he enthusiastically shared a mix of words, you kindly asked him to slow down and try again. “Fries,” he said, albeit unclearly. “What size?” you inquired. “Medium,” he replied. “Great! Anything else?” You glanced at me, and I shook my head while my son confidently added, “Nope!”
What you might not have realized, as we paused to gather our order, is that my son has childhood apraxia of speech. However, the specifics of his condition were irrelevant to you. What mattered was ensuring his order was correct. You didn’t merely tolerate his presence as a customer; you embraced him as a peer. You presumed his competence—not based on your standards, but on his own abilities. You allowed him the dignity of time, asked for his name to put on the order screen, and even checked if you spelled it right, asking if he could assist with the spelling.
I’m sure you weren’t looking for recognition or praise for your kindness. You simply wanted a 10-year-old boy at your counter to enjoy the experience of ordering lunch, just like any other child would on a Friday afternoon.
Advocacy and inclusion can be complex. When they stem from genuine equality, empathy, and understanding, they can profoundly impact lives. However, when they lack authenticity, they can inadvertently perpetuate marginalization. When well-meaning individuals “allow” my child to be included in activities—like being prom king or making a crucial basket in a game—they may unintentionally undermine his ability and dignity. No one should have to earn their worthiness through the kindness of others.
You, Lisa, exemplify the type of authentic advocacy that can transform societal perceptions of disability. Thank you for providing not just a meal but a moment filled with hope.
Warm regards,
His mom
In Closing
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Summary
This letter expresses gratitude to Lisa, a Wendy’s cashier, who treated a special needs child with kindness and respect, fostering an inclusive environment. It highlights the importance of authentic advocacy and the impact of genuine interactions on individuals with disabilities.