It seems we now know how to regulate but not how to celebrate
IT WAS a day my husband and I will never forget. We were on a visit to a Camphill community in a lovely, leafy part of the country as part of our research into possible futures for our autistic son, Tom.
We were met by a smiling woman and allowed to visit two residents who were busy in the kitchen preparing for dinner that evening. Two men, one large, middle-aged and non-verbal , the other small, young, loquacious, with Down Syndrome, were copying by hand, from a book, the recipes they needed for dinner that night.
