Parth’s first months of school were full of challenges. Every day began with the same routine, getting him dressed, packing his tiffin, and walking him into the classroom with hope. But most mornings ended in tears. Sometimes he cried at the classroom door, sometimes in the middle of lessons, overwhelmed by the noise, new faces, and unfamiliar routine.
The teachers did their best to engage him with rhymes, toys, and gentle encouragement. His mother, sitting in the school’s waiting room, was always nearby. When the tears became too much, she was called in. She would hold him, comfort him, and reassure him until he felt safe enough to try again. It was a cycle that repeated many times: settling in for a short while, crying again, and slowly calming down.
Progress was slow, but it was there. With time, Parth began recognizing his teachers’ faces and voices. He started to join in short group activities, clapping along to songs or imitating actions with the other children. Some mornings, he managed to stay a little longer before needing comfort. The tears did not always last as long as they once had.
For us as parents, these tiny shifts were deeply meaningful. It was painful to see him struggle every day, but each small step gave us hope. By the end of 2017, we could see him learning to manage school in his own way. He was not yet independent, but he was slowly building the courage to stay, listen, and participate.
These months reminded us that progress is not always measured in big leaps. Sometimes it comes in inches, through patience, repetition, and love. And those inches, over time, become the foundation for bigger steps.