It took just a few minutes.
Lillian was already holding her fork and knife with steady little hands, managing to get her veggies onto her plate without any trouble.
The little one was beaming with pride, grinning up at Dennis Williams. “Thanks, Uncle Dennis!”
Dennis gave her nose a gentle tap. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”
Camila Davis had been watching all this from across the dining table, only now realizing—maybe a little guiltily—that she’d completely dropped the ball as a mom.
How could she have let Mr. Williams take over something like this?
But then again, she could see it—he’d been gently guiding Lillian, encouraging her to do the things she was perfectly capable of.
He treated her like a regular kid, not making extra allowances just because she was on the autism spectrum.
Camila couldn’t help but admit to herself that she’d never been that good at it. When it came to her daughter, she always wanted to make things easier, to shield her from any bumps or mishaps.
She’d gotten into the habit of doing everything for her, without even thinking.
But maybe that was exactly what was holding Lillian back from exploring on her own.
As if reading her mind, Dennis kept up the gentle encouragement—offering hints here and there as Lillian tried new things, like peeling her own shrimp.
By the time lunch was over, Lillian had managed to peel a shrimp all by herself. It wasn’t perfect—some of the shells were still clinging stubbornly—but for her, it was a huge leap forward.
Dennis didn’t hold back on the praise. “That’s awesome! Next time, you can try peeling them at home, too. Just be careful not to poke your fingers, okay?”
Lillian nodded, her face lighting up with joy.
Watching them, Camila felt a bittersweet surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Williams.”
Dennis glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed, did you?”
Camila nodded.
How could she not notice? He’d been encouraging Lillian every step of the way, always positive, always patient.
Dennis explained quietly, “Lillian isn’t really a candidate for intense therapy right now. She needs gentle, gradual encouragement—little nudges that help her discover her own feelings and emotions. Looks like it’s working.”
Camila nodded emphatically.
Working? It was like Lillian had made more progress in one afternoon than she had in the past year!
When lunch wrapped up, Camila felt a little reluctant to leave Dennis’s company. Part of her wished Lillian could spend even more time with him—maybe that would speed up her recovery.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her purse.

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