Author: Eric Lebersfeld

In the musical The Secret Garden, a small wheelchair bound boy named Colin Craven believes he will never grow old. He has been told all his life, not always unkindly, that he is crippled, weak and very ill. He has learned to hate fresh air and being outdoors. He is a miserable child bent on making all around him miserable as well.

All this changes with the arrival to his world of a precocious and strong willed girl named Mary Lenox. She breaks through Colin’s angry exterior and becomes his friend. Instead of kowtowing to his blustery demands or running from his violent tantrums, she stands up to him and treats him as an equal. She does not burden him with sympathy, but instead encourages him to join her outside in a secret garden.
There, among the grass and flowers and trusted companions, Colin slowly is transformed. In one powerful scene, he pushes himself out of his wheelchair and walks his first few tentative steps. The imaginary ailments that had plagued him, slowly melt away as he gains confidence with each small step.

Last night, when my son Jack sang his first note as Colin in the song “One small step,” my wife Susan began to cry. It wasn’t because the note was pure, which it was. It wasn’t because she was proud of him, which she was. It was for her boy’s one small step. It seemed to be his own declaration that there are no limits on him. There will be no restraints on his abilities or what he will grow to do. The note, the step, the boy, the scene – all powerful, all wonderful.

With the encouragement of his friends, “Don’t be afraid to fall, everybody does,” and with the will to do for himself and choose his own destiny, Colin is reborn. He has gone from a bitter, handicapped, lonely dying child to a boy whose spirit is set free. He defiantly declares, “I shall get well and I will live forever and ever and ever!” The previous locked door to his secret garden is now open wide.

In many ways, we are all Colin Craven. Certainly, Colin and Jack and I will stumble and fall. We will have obstacles placed in our way by others and ourselves. We will lash out unkindly at innocent well meaning people. However, if we find supportive friends, risk a fall to run, resolve to go forward not back — even one small step at a time, our futures are open to anything.

Jack’s Aspergers can be his wheelchair or it can not. Our fear of failure can hold us back or it can not. We can surround ourselves with shallow selfish people or we can not. We can choose to live a stale bleak existence or we can choose to turn our faces to the sunshine. The garden is not a secret, it is just one that we may choose not to unlock.

Jack’s journey into his garden is happening. Last night was one small, but treasured, step.