When your child has the gift of charm

"Hola, Max!" Several days into our vacation in the Dominican Republic last week, we realized that Max had become popular at the resort we were at. Everywhere we walked, staffers greeted him. Kids said hello as well. "Hola!" Max responded.

Max has the gift of charm—a bright smile and a warmth about him that needs no words. After Dave dropped him off at school one day a couple of years ago and saw him greeting everyone in a hallways, he started calling him "the mayor." I'm grateful for his cheer, particularly because it opens doors for him.

Max got it into his head that he wanted to dance in the evening show at the hotel. We talked with the assistant entertainment manager about it. And wouldn't you know it, right at the end of a performance they called Max onstage and he grooved with the dancers, a giant smile on everyone's face.

Years ago, someone once pained me by saying that Max was cheerful because he was "simple-minded." That's hardly the case. Max's brain is as complex as anyone's. And he's ebullient and outgoing because he was born that way. It's one of his many assets. That charisma will serve him well in life—a way to help people see him, not just his disability, and appreciate him.

At times, I wonder how he might someday put his charm to use in a job—store greeter? Host? Politician?! I don't know. But what I do know is that as much as I do my best to make things happen for Max, he has the power to make stuff happen for himself.