Our Little Caterpillar

Before

When he first visited us, our Little Caterpillar didn’t want anything to do with his instructor. He ran into the room to explore, made no eye contact, and avoided interaction entirely. He wasn’t defiant—just deeply uninterested in connecting. And that was okay. We knew the goal wasn’t instant engagement—it was simply to create a space worth returning to.

During

At first, he resisted lying down in the hammock. He seemed especially uncomfortable with his head enclosed, so we followed his cue and let him sit upright instead. But later, while spinning, he surprised us—he curled onto his side inside the hammock and started wiggling joyfully, like a little worm. “Are you a wiggly caterpillar?” we asked. He kept wiggling. He reached out for our hand. Again and again. We checked in: “Do you want more?” And he signed more.

The Win

At the end of class, without a prompt or cue, he waved goodbye. His mom looked stunned. “Oh my gosh,” she mouthed. Later, she shared that his teacher and aide had been working on that simple wave for much of the school year. Our Little Caterpillar felt safe and comfortable enough to engage, enjoying the space and communicating through signs and gestures. That’s why we follow their lead. That’s why we spin, cocoon, pause, and play. Sometimes, the biggest flight starts with the smallest wiggle.