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J is one of my two favorite letters in the alphabet. J starts my husband's name, and it also comes first in the names of many amazing women in my life. Today, I struck gold with Js.

I love many things about my friend long-distance friend J, but one thing I particularly admire is her faith.

I never feel comfortable talking about that subject -- faith -- here on this blog, and as a matter of fact I don't have a lot to say about it right now. I'm still swimming. But I do feel comfortable telling you about J, as I have a lot faith in -- her faith. It's powerful. It amazes me.

Very early this morning, a difficult morning for many reasons (only one of which related to autism, if you can believe that), I opened my email to find kind words from J. I really needed it, and when she closed by saying she would pray for a bright spot in my day today, you know of course that I couldn't stop the tears of gratitude.

You'd think I would have found a moment to write her back today, but life slammed me, and the first time I have had for writing anything came right now. Hopefully she's reading this (because, J, I know you'll approve of me flying in the face of my infamous bad-luck "deities," and telling everyone about the bright spot you sent us).

The bright spot brings me to another amazing J, the one who watches my rooster for an hour every day after school at the daycare program. In my opinion, this J has a tough job. She watches kids age 3 to 12 for two and a half hours after school each day. She supervises their play, feeds them snack, manages their comings and goings, coordinates their study activities, and deals with their parents. Needless to say, it can get chaotic in daycare. But J handles it with grace. She has excellent experience; before she came to work for us, she worked with special ed kids in the public school system, so she has learned patience and creativity, and she also is the sister to one of my former boyfriends, so I KNOW she can handle challenges! (Just kidding, R.) Still, mixing in my wild child, still in diapers and exhausted by 3:30 each day, well, where I come from down South, people would say J "has more than she can say grace over." Once in a while she needs to call me early to say the rooster can't quite handle the whole hour of daycare, and I appreciate that. If J says it, I believe it. She doesn't pull any punches.

Today I walked in to the daycare room a few minutes early. I didn't feel well, not well at all, and I wanted to get the kids in the car as soon as I could and head home for some medicine.

When J saw me coming, she got the look on her face -- the look that says, "I need to talk to YOU." I suddenly felt much worse. Very sick. Oy. I thought about telling her, "Sorry, can't talk, not well..." But you can see the bright spot coming, can't you?

She wanted me to know that a new boy came to daycare today, a boy the same age as the Rooster. The two came in hitting each other, which is not okay. But then the other boy wanted to play cars, and there were none left. He grabbed one from another child, but J made him give it back. All of a sudden, the Rooster says, "Here! I have two. You can have one!"

I waited. J's lips had stopped moving. This story did not sink in, did not add up, did not seem complete at first. An awkward pause lingered. Maybe she didn't know how to say the rest? I said, "And then he grabbed it right back again?"

"No!" J laughed. "Look! They are still sharing!"

My poor iPhone. I used up the entire battery clicking pictures of the Rooster with his... with his... oh, I am sorry long-distance J, I haven't come as far as I thought. I can't put all the good words out there. After all, we still have to survive again tomorrow in the world with all our dysregulation and idiosyncrasies. But let's just say I got some good pictures of the Rooster with his ... NOT ENEMY (YET).

I send good thoughts out to all of you. If you want to send thoughts of us, please make them for more bright spots. We would be ever so grateful.