I smiled to myself knowingly, as I headed to the double-bound folder my supervisor had left me. I read through his notes: “Male. Four years. Quick learner. High functioning. Work on increased attention span, social and imaginative play.” I glanced up and saw Matt immersed in his world of choo-choo trains.

“Look, Matt, I have the blue train,” he ran over to grab the train. I grabbed another one and tried to get a game of ‘pass the train’ going but Matt was more interested in the trains than making eye contact. I realised as long as the trains remained in the room with us I would never have Matt’s attention. I grabbed the trains and the wooden tracks, dumped them into a container and carried them out of the room. He flung himself on the floor and wept, his innocent eyes looking at me accusingly. I heard the housekeeper scuffling towards us; eyes blazing with anger.

Days passed without any progress. I would arrive at 4 pm every day. I would try to entice Matt with a variety of toys. None held his interest. He would repeatedly ask me for trains. When I didn’t comply, he would burst into tears. For the next hour-and-a-half I would sit in the room with the crying child.

Finally, the crying would temper down to a few sniffles. By 6 pm, it would be time for me to log out on my timesheet.

After the first few days things got worse. The moment Matt saw me approaching the house he would start crying, refusing to go to the playroom with me. The housekeeper would glare at me and mutter under her breath, “You upset child.” My heart would sink watching Matt react like this but my annoyance at the housekeeper would rise just a little bit more every time. Each time I went back to the playroom, the train set would be there, I would remove it and Matt would cry. I began to worry. What if I never get through to this child? What if my supervisor thinks I can’t do the job?

I rested my head on the train window, feeling its vibrations reverberate through my head. I was worn out. And then an idea popped into my mind.

Today I didn’t ask Matt to join me. I just said hello and headed to the playroom by myself. I got out some coloured balls, put on some music and started rolling them around. I invited Matt’s seven-year-old brother, Brian, to join me. Together we kicked, rolled, threw and caught the ball. Brian and I were having fun. I could see Matt, sitting near the playroom door eyeing us. After a while he walked around trying to find his train set. When he couldn’t find his train set he began to inch towards us and caught hold of one of the balls.

“Catch,” he said, as he threw the ball towards me giggling. I smiled. “Houston we have contact.”