Story text
Ben, a five-year-old autistic boy, learns to wait patiently for his turn on the playground slide with the help of a caring grown-up, finding pride in his success.
Page 1
The playground was Ben's favorite place, especially the tall, twisty slide. It looked like a silver rocket ship! Ben loved the whoosh of air and the happy feeling in his tummy when he slid down. Today, he ran straight to it, his sneakers kicking up wood chips. "My turn!" he said, ready to climb. But then he saw other children already there. His happy feeling started to wiggle away.
Page 2
Ben's hands started to flap near his ears. "I want to go now!" he said, his voice sounding tight. He saw Lily giggling at the top and Sam waiting on the ladder. It felt like they would never be done. The sun felt too hot, and the sounds of the playground buzzed loudly in his ears. He wanted the smooth, quiet feeling of the slide, not this noisy, wiggly waiting.
Page 3
Just then, Ms. Rivera walked over. She had a kind face and a soft voice. She knelt down next to Ben. "I see you really want to use the slide, Ben," she said. "It's hard to wait, isn't it?" Ben nodded, looking at his sneakers. "Let's look at the line together," Ms. Rivera suggested gently. "Can you help me count how many friends are ahead?"
Page 4
Ben looked up. He pointed with one finger. "One... Lily," he counted. "Two... Sam." "That's right!" said Ms. Rivera. "Two friends. After Sam, it will be your turn." Knowing the number helped the waiting feel a little less fuzzy. "Now, let's take one slow breath while we wait," Ms. Rivera said. She took a big, slow breath in, and Ben copied her, puffing out his cheeks like a frog.
Page 5
"Good job!" Ms. Rivera smiled. "Sometimes, my hands want to dance when I wait. Let's see if we can keep our hands calm." She showed Ben how to press his palms together softly, like he was holding a little butterfly. Ben tried it. Pressing his hands together felt steady and good. It gave his hands something quiet to do.
Page 6
"We can also use our words," Ms. Rivera said. "Would you like to practice saying, 'I am waiting for my turn'?" Ben looked at the slide, then at his calm hands. In a clear voice, he practiced, "I... am waiting... for my turn." Saying the words made the plan feel real inside his head. He said it one more time, just for himself.
Page 7
Sam whizzed down the slide with a "Wheee!" Now it was Ben's turn! Ben walked to the ladder, his hands still pressed together. He climbed up, one step at a time. At the top, he looked down the long, curvy silver path. He remembered his slow breath and his calm hands. He was ready.