Winter break has been serving miracles in small, sacred moments — and Ms. Ella Grace has been the headline.
This weekend, our family attended a homegoing for a beloved cousin. For my children, he wasn’t just family — he was an uncle in the way that truly matters: present, loved, and woven into our lives. It was also my kids’ first homegoing, and even in the heaviness of grief, it was a beautiful gathering of family and friends.
What stood out to me was how well Ella Grace handled the entire day.
We didn’t bring her safety lead. No backpack with a strap. No extra supports. And yet — she didn’t elope. She stayed with us, regulated, and calm through the service and the fellowship afterward. If you parent a neurodivergent child, you understand what a milestone that is. It wasn’t just “good behavior.” It was growth. It was trust. It was evidence that something is clicking.
Later, I watched Ella do what she does best: play with purpose.
We ended up at a playground, and the way she moved through that space made me smile from my soul. She climbed, used the slide, tried different swings, and played with her cousins like she was exactly where she belonged — joyful, focused, and free. In that moment, I understood why schools use playground time as a reward. For Ella, it’s not just play. It’s confidence. It’s regulation. It’s connection.
Then came the speech milestones — the kind that make you pause and whisper, “Thank You, God.”
Ella Grace used one of her scripts and spoke conversationally with her father and me:
“Good morning, how are you?”
“I am fine.”
Not just repeating. Not just echoing. But using language with intention.
And then… my girl had the nerve (the sweet nerve) to tell her dad “I love you” for the first time — right after he brought home nuggets and fries. Now, normally I’m the supplier of the fix, okay? So to hear her choose him in that moment was both hilarious and holy. Love — motivated by gratitude and golden nuggets. Amen. 😂💛
And as if that wasn’t enough, she shocked me again: while I was typing on my phone, she read what I was typing. That moment sat me down. Because it reminded me: she’s always been learning, always been watching, always been absorbing — even when the world assumes she isn’t.
So yes… this winter break has been milestones upon milestones. And I am deeply grateful. Watching Ella Grace grow is a reminder that progress doesn’t always come loud. Sometimes it comes quietly — like a child staying close, a voice offering “good morning,” and love showing up right on time.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father, thank You for carrying our family through a weekend filled with both grief and grace. Thank You for the love that surrounds us, and for the gift of togetherness even in hard moments. Lord, thank You for every milestone in Ella Grace’s life — for safety, for growth, for joy, and for new language that is beginning to bloom. Continue to strengthen her, guide her steps, and expand her communication in ways that bring her confidence and peace. Cover our family with comfort, and help us recognize Your goodness in the everyday moments. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
© 2025, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
