Tag Archives: Friendship

Autism and Friendship #Write31Days

Welcone to day one of #Write31Days for 2017. This month’s theme on my blog is autism. One of the most characteristic impairments in autism, at least according to diagnostic criteria, is an impairment in social interaction skills. In DSM-IV, the diagnostic manual under which I was originally diagnosed, failure to develop peer relationships appropriate to developmental level was one of the impairmetns under the social interaction deficits criterion. “Peer relatioships” refers mostly to friendships, though I reckon it can refer to romantic relationships in adolescents and adults too. Today, I will discuss how autism impaacts my understanding of friendship.

Many years ago, I read an article by famous autism expert Tony Attwood on the topic of development of friendship skills. A typically developing child starts to develop friendship skills at around age three. They realize that friendship requires some level of turn-taking but their approach to this is egocentric, based on for example sharing of material goods or playing together. When someone asks why a person is the child’s friend, the child at this stage would typically respond: “Because they live next door.”

Children between age three and six are typically at this level. Autistic children (and in a way even adults) typically remain at this level longer. When I was nine, for example, I’d consider someone a friend because they gave me candy. Admittedly, I’m still at this level in a way, though I realize this is inappropriate. For example, when my now husband said that he was in love with me, I wasn’t sure whether to reciprocate it, since I didn’t know whether I liked him just because he was the only one who’d visit me in the psychiatric hospital. Also, I still can’t sem to move away from materialistic aspects of friendship like sharing candy.

At around age six, typically developing children move into the next level of friendship skills, which is based on shared interests and games. When asked why someone is a child’s friend, a child at this stage would say: “Because they let me play the games I want to”, “Because they’re nice to me”, etc. I relate to this level of friendship too.

Another criterion of autism in DSM-IV was lack of social reciprocity. This means that an autistic person doesn’t understand age-appropriate rules of give-and-take. Many autistic people can come across rather self-centered. So do I. For exampel, I rarelys hared candy (here we go again!) in the institution, even thoug I did accept it from others when offered. Give-and-take, however, seems not just based on material things and there aren’t many clear-cut rules for it.

I have a rather literal interpretation of reciprocity: when my husband, for example, gives me something, be it material or immaterial, I have to give him the same back. As such I feel extremely bad about being dependent on my husband for many things, like transportation, food, etc. He says that I give him love in return, but I barely understand the concept of love.

Book Review: Unspeakable by Abbie Rushton

Yay! I reached at least one of my goals for this month. I finished not just one, but two books I’d started reading earlier in the year. Already in January, before the book was published (or at least before the eBook was), I found out about Unspeakable by Abbie Rushton and decided I wanted to read it. Like with Girl in Glass, other things that seemed more interesting came in the way, so I didn’t finish the book till a few days ago.

Synopsis

Megan doesn’t speak. She hasn’t spoken in months. Pushing away the people she cares about is just a small price to pay. Because there are things locked inside Megan’s head – things that are screaming to
be heard – that she cannot, must not, let out. Then Jasmine starts at school: bubbly, beautiful, talkative Jasmine. And for reasons Megan can’t quite understand, life starts to look a bit brighter. Megan would love to speak again, and it seems like Jasmine might be the answer. But if she finds her voice, will she lose everything else?

My Review

This is a fascinating book and it doesn’t go as I’d expected it to go. When I first started reading this book, I thought it’d shed light on selective mutism, in which a peson (usually a child) is unable to speak because of severe social anxiety. Though technically Megan might meet the definition of selective mutism, much more is behind her silence than social anxiety. When reading the first few chapters, I was bored easily, because I had no way of making sense of the story. When I read on, however, this boredom turned into curiosity, then suspense and eventually I was completely captivated. The book has some fascinating twists and turns and some thrilling cliff-hanges, some almost literal. Once I got through the first few chapters, the story kept me thrilled until the very last page. That’s a rare occurrence with the type of fiction I usually read. With this book, Abbie Rushton tells a great story on friendship, love and crime. For those who, like me, are pretty faint-hearted, I’d like to disclose that the story ends on a good note. I can’t wait to read Rushton’s next book, which will be out in the spring of 2016.

Book Details

Title: Unspeakable
Author: Abbie Rushton
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Publication Date: February 2015

Loneliness in Autistic People #AtoZChallenge

Welcome to day twelve in the A to Z Challenge on autism. Sorry for being late to publish my post again. Today, my post deals with a common experience in autisitc people: loneliness.

Autistic people by definition have trouble forming friendships, especially with non-autistic people. For this reason, many autistic people feel isolated and lonely. I am no exception. Other than my husband, I have no close friends, though I have a ton of Facebook friends. Most I don’t really know.

in adolescence particularly, I felt lonely. I remember writing in my diary a month into starting secondary school that I realized everyone had built friendships already and I hadn’t. In elementary school, I had usually had one or two friends, though I had trouble interacting with them too. Most of my elementary school friends were themselves quite isolated too.

It is a myth that autistic people are not affected by loneliness. In fact, many adults with autism experience depression and low self-esteem because of their lack of quality friendships. However, depression and anxiety also commonly cause autistic people to feel lonely and to self-isolate. I, for one, did not attempt to socialize anymore after I realized I clung too much to peoople who didn’t in fact considier me a friend. By the end of eighth grade, I was seemingly fine with the fact that I had no friends, but was actually quite depressed.

Even autistics who do have friends, can feel lonely. This is because autistic people have a different perception of friendship than neurotypicals. For example, neurotypical people usually associate friendship with affection, companionship and intimacy. Autistic people often don’t experience these qualities, or experience them to a lesser degree, in their friendships. They may therefore be lonely because of having a poorer quality friendship. For example, I sometimes refer to some of my Facebook friends as actual friends in conversation, but I recognize that the relationship I have with them is not as close as that of other people with their friends.

There are many ways to cope with loneliness. For example, autistic people might want to connect to other autistic people. There are play groups for autistic children and social and support groups for teens and adults with autism in most urban areas. This not only will help autistic people connect to others, but they wil also be able to find someone whose experience is similar to theirs. Hence, they may feel less disconnected from their environments, which can also be a form of loneliness.

Of course, it is also important that autistic people develop their interpersonal skills. In the Netherlands, many mental health agencies provide specific programs for adults with autism, where they can also follow social skills training. This may help them build and keep friendships and thereby lessen loneliness.

Lastly, many autistic people find that pets can help them feel less lonely. I for one don’t have a particularly close connection to our two cats, but that is possibly because they’re at our apartment, where my husband primarily cares for them.

Friendship and Borderline Personality Disorder

The second question in the “31 days of BPD” challenge asks why your last friendship ended. Now I don’t have any friends (unless you count my husband) and haven’t had any in a long time.

Friendships for me were usually short-lived. I had one friend in elementary school who stayed friends with me for the three years that I attended that school, but we didn’t have much contact after I left the school. I’d call her a few times, but she’d never call me and I eventually gave up.

With my seventh grade school for the blind friend, the same happened. We were good friends for the entirety of the year I spent in that school. I’d say we were best friends, but in all honesty she was my only real frined even though I got along quite well with my other classmates and some older girls too. Anyway, after I left the school to be mainstreamed, I spoke to her a few times on the phone, but I’d always ask her to call me and she never would.

I think I must’ve burdneed her with my problems, being bullied and isolated in mainstream school, but I don’t remember. This was in any case what caused my few mainstream school friendships to end. Right when a girl started hanging out with me, I’d open up and tell her my problems. While that wasn’t the actual reason my friendship with four girls in seventh grade mainstream education ended, it probably did contribute.

This was the only friendship that truly was broken. I reemember it was at the beginning of eighth grade. We’d had to do a graded music performance, which I apparently screwed up. I don’t remember how, but somehow I screwed it up, giving the other girls a bare pass. They ignored me for a week, one girl in particular but she was supported by her three friends. Then, when I apologized for whatever I did wrong, they said they forgave me but never quite grew the friendship back.

This all happened when I was a teen, and I’m not sure it’s truly BPD that caused me to be overly open. It could have been my autistic social cluelessness combined with the fact that, well, everyone needs someone to support them and I didn’t have any adults who did. However, rapidly growing attached to people is a common BPD trait. I am not really sure I have this trait, as it’s not really that I overestimate how close I am to people.

With my now husband, I saw him as an acquaintance when he was visiting me on the psych unit on a weekly basis. I didn’t grow a true attachment to him till we started dating. However, I did open up to him too soon, sharing my suicidal ideation at his first visit to the hospital.

This could be related to BPD in a way, in that I particularly open up a lot when I experience strong emotions. Another thing, however, is that I open up more to people I barely know than to those who should be close to me, like my family. I don’t have a clue whether this is a BPD or an autism thing or not.

Linking up with Saturday Sharefest at the Recovery Bloggers Network. The Recovery Bloggers Network is a new project, where I and another blogger hope to connect bloggers who write about mental health, addiction, recovery, or healing from trauma or abuse.

Things People Don’t Tell You (or Even Know) about Borderline Personality Disorder

Having borderline personality disorder, I have severe and rapid mood swings. Usually, people with BPD experience chronic, low-grade depression, but it can worsen or spiral down into anxiety, paranoia or anger at the drop of a hat. I have experienced that during severe mood episodes, I have similar experiences that are listed as those common in mood or anxiety episodes for people with depression, bipolar or anxiety disorders. The difference is the episodes are usually more severe but last shorter.

Today, I came across a list of things people don’t tell you (or even know) about depression. I can relate to many of these and could add a few that apply to my BPD moods specifically.

1. Most of the things people tell you, are not going to register with you and/or aren’t helpful at the time. “Just accept that you feel like crap”, “just act happier”, or “it will get better”. When I’m in a BPD mood episode, I usually can’t see beyond this episode and am utterly overcome with emotion. Telling me to “just” accept it or “just” act ahppier will seem totally unhelpful, even though it is particularly the “just” bit that is making it unhelpful. It’s not easy, but acting opposite to emotions and acceptance of one’s emotional state do help.

2. It physically hurts. Particularly depression and anxiety can cause physical symptoms. I often experience a heavy weight on my body when in a depressed state. Intense fatigue is another symptom. Anxiety can come with a lot of physical symptoms, such as a racing heartbeat, chest pains, lightheadedness, etc. When you experience these symptoms for the first time, do see your doctor to make sure it’s indeed anxiety and not a physical health condition.

3. Your relationship with food changes to “it’s complicated”. Many people with BPD also experience eating disorders, usually of the not otherwise specified type, where they alternate between anorexic and bulimic or binge eating episodes. Mood episodes can, as the author of the article I linked to says, also cause you to overeat or forget to eat.

4. Some “friends” will let you down, and that’s okay. Being BPD, we often tend to cling to people and have severe fears of abandonment. However, those friends who let us down during a mood episode, probably aren’t worth our frantic efforts to keep them. Friendships are generally hard for borderlines, so especially when not in a severe mood episode, it may be helfpul to invest in interpersonal skills.

5. You feel like you’re absolutely losing your mind. When in a severe mood episode, I can’t see beyond this episode and usually think it is worse than it is. Even if I do recognize that my symptoms are mood symptoms and I’m not going to die of a physical health condition, I often do feel like I’m going crazy. I could’ve been fine hours or even minutes before, but in such a severe emotional state, all there is, is depression, anxiety or paranoia.

6. Everything will start to annoy you. Even you will start to annoy you. My sensory overreactivity gets a lot worse when I’m in a mood episode. So does my general irritabilty. Unfortunately, irritability in BPD is commonly seen as a behavior problem rather than a mood problem./P>

7. Everyday tasks will feel overwhelming. As I said, most people with BPD experience chronic, low-grade depression. For this reason, everyday tasks feeling overwhelming is not just a symptomom of a severe mood episode for me. It could also be related to autism in my case. However, it is true that, when in a severe mood episode, I find everyday tasks even mroe overwhelming than usual. It is important to keep some level of activity even when in an episode.

8. It’s nearly impossible to tell when it’s “just your BPD talking”. With BPD being a chronic mental health condition, we often get used to our irrational beliefs. They however do become worse when in a dysregulated state. At the same time, it is extremely hard to see beyond this mood to our (still distorted) everyday sense of reality.

9. Moods will wreak havoc on your sleep schedule. When depressed, people often experience disrupted sleep. They may sleep more during the day and less at night. On the other hand, borderlines can have periods of hyperactivity similar to bipolar (hypo)mania, when they seem to need less sleep. Sleeping pills may have opposite effects in BPD, causing agitaton and even aggression.

10. Sometimes, you will not feel anything at all. Feeling nothign at all may be a sign of depression, but it is also common in BPD (“chronic feelings of emptiness” is one of the criteria). I personally don’t feel empty or numb that often, but when I do, it’s often the “calm before the storm” and I run an increased risk of falling into a dysregulated mood episode.

11. Your dreams get weird. Both changing moods and the medications many borderlines take can cause you to start having weird, intense or scary dreams. I felt a wave of recognition when I read this in the article I linked to. When I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital in 2007, the psychiatrist asked whether I had scary dreams. I said “No”, but I did say I had these really weird, intense dreams. They quieted for a while and then came back when I went on an anitpsychotic. PTSD is also common among those with BPD, and one of the symptoms of this is recurrent nightmares about the trauma you endured.

12. Your mood will seem totally “logical”. As I said, it is hard when in a severe mood state to look beyond this state. Your mood will also make you feel like it’s the most normal, or even the only state to be in. Some research shows that depressed people lack healthy but unrealistic optimism. Therefore, your thoughts may seem or even be close to reality, but they aren’t helpful.

13. You won’t be able to think clearly about your future. When I was in my worst mood epsiode, even looking a day ahead seemed impossible. I not only had no hope, but no image of even the short-term future whatsoever.

14. Mood episodes distort your view of the past, too. When I am in a severe mood episode, I can not only not see that it will ever get better, but I exaggerate how long I’ve been in this state. This doesn’t happen consciously or with a purpose, but it’s impossible to look not only beyond this state, but also to the past before this state started.

15. BPD makes you feel like you’re alone. You’re not. I often feel like no-one has similar experiences to mine. Of course, it is true that no-one is in my head so no-one has the same expeirneces, but many people do have similar experiences. You are not alone with BPD.

Secrets

This week, the spin cycle prompt is about secrets. I was one to easily spill secrets as a child. My sister always knew what she’d get for her birthday at least a week in advance, and this was not just due to the fact that there were noticeable patterns in my gift-giving – from a few years where I’d give her pavement chalk to a few years of colored markers to at last the inevitable cheap tween fiction when she was about ten to twelve. I think I didn’t quite understand the concept of secret-keeping if someone was going to find out about the “secret” soon enough anyway.

I also didn’t keep my own secrets. As a teen, I kept a journal faithfully and hoped my parents wouldn’t read it, but I spilled bits of it to anyone who remotely resembled my concept of a friend. I know that deep down, I wanted people to know the darkness of my experiences. I was extremely naive, yet also mistrusting of people like my own parents.

This discrepancy grew when the Internet came into my life when I was sixteen. I spilled my deepest secrets to my online diary, but when my parents asked me how I was, I responded with the usual “fine” or a grunt. My parents had a proxy server through which we accessed the Internet, and I now know they at least had the opportunity to log my Internet activity. I think they actually may’ve done so, as one day when I’d had an Internet connection for about six months, my father offhandly remarked that all I looked at were disability sites or storytelling sites (the story site being about disability, too, but he couldn’t tell that by its name).

With regard to other people’s secrets, I don’t “just know” when I shouldn’t say something. This has led to a number of awkward situations, from my spilling personal details about my relationship (and hence, my husban’ds life) to the Internet, to my telling my parents my husband’s jokes that mock my parents’ political persuasion. I truly have to be explicitly told that something is private or that I need to keep it to myself.

There are several factors that contribute to my inability to keep secrets. First, there is the idea, which I’ve read is common in autistics, that other people know anyway. I don’t literally think that, as Stephen M. Edelson pointed it, other people can read my thoughts, but the idea is at the back of my mind nonetheless. Related to this idea is the inability to see that, what I know, not everyone else should necessarily know too. Lastly, there is a reason why I particularly spill secrets to the Internet. I think I may not fully realize that those on the other end of the Interwebs, are actually real people. That doesn’t mean I don’t develop online relationships or that I’m not affected by what other people put online. However, it is still hard for me to grasp that screen names (or even real names on Facebook) correspond to actual, real people, even those I may encounter in real life.

Ten Things About My Husband #TuesdayTen

This week’s Tuesday Ten is all about friendship, in honor of National Friendship Day. Lisa of The Golden Spoons explains the origins of National Friendship Day. Like most holidays, it’s higly commercialized. Unlike others, it actually originated as a commercial celebration, having been invented by Hallmark. It’s apparently formally recognized by the United Nations now.

Like Lisa, I am quite introverted. I don’t have anyy good friends, unless you count my husband. My problems with friendship usually come down to reciprocity, or the lack thereof. I either share too little, ask too little about the other person, or I pour my heart out too soon.

Consequently, I, too, will have my husband as my best friend. It’s not that he doesn’t have to put up with my lack of reciprocal interaction, but apparently, he loves me anyway. Here are ten things I love about him.


  1. He is patient. He kept coming to the locked psychiatric unit when I was there and we weren’t officially in a relationship yet. He patiently waited for me to answer that I loved him too.

  2. He is funny. Usually. Sometimes though, his politically incorrect jokes drive me batty.

  3. When he’s determined to do something, he goes for it. He’s sometimes frustrated when I give up too quickly in his opinion.

  4. He plays and dances with me when one of my inner children is out.

  5. He handles my mentally ill moments really well.

  6. He is usually honest but gentle.

  7. He has a lot of knowledge and is a great debater.

  8. He helps me out when it’s noisy or I can’t communicate clearly for another reason.

  9. He loves me in spite of all my quirks.

  10. He can usually fix my computer. 😉

The Golden Spoons

We Don’t Stop Playing Because We Grow Old

This week’s spin cycle theme is “grow”. Ginny Marie over at Lemon Drop Pie asks: “Are your kids growing like weeds? Are the weeds growing in your garden? Does your garden have vegetables growing? Or are the veggies in your fridge started to grow mold?” Since I don’t have kids, a garden or a fridge, I need to invent another topic to post about. After reading Ginny Marie’s contribution, I thought of something. I want to write about growing up, too, but I struggle. As a kid, I always feared growing up, because it’d mean I needed to stop playing.

For a long time, from around age twelve on, I thought playing meant you were childish and being childish meant you were bad. When I was eleven, the school psychologist wanted me to become a residential student at the school for the blind. My mother explained to me that I was troubled because I had too many toys. I till this day don’t see the connection. Sure, I had quite the toy collection, but so did other kids. Sure, I had trouble making friends, and my interests were not the same as those of my age peers. I doubt they were all into books, which my mother said I had to be into in order to fit in. Books or music. While my age peers in the neighborhood were into music, I didn’t fit in once I listened to the music they were into and had Backstreet Boys posters covering my walls. Not that this period lasted long, because I’d quickly had enough.

Besides, I wasn’t troubled because I had few friends. That wasn’t the reason the school psychologist wanted to institutionalize me. The reason was my meltdowns and tantrums, and I have no clue what they had to do with toys. Sure, I had a tantrum when my Barbie doll’s leg broke off, but I had and still have similar outbursts when my computer crashes. Maybe that means computers aren’t the right interest either.

However, I internalized the idea that to play is to be childish and to be childish is bad. I remember when I was thirteen I kept track of my behavior problems, like tantrums, and soon added any sort of childlike behavior, including playing with Barbie dolls. I was going to regular education in a month, and it had become very clear to me that regular kids my age don’t play with Barbie dolls.

Once at regular school, I listened to the right music and read the right books. It didn’t change my outcast status. It didn’t lessen my meltdowns. It didn’t make me not fear growing up. It did make me grow old. We don’t stop playing because we grow old, after all, but we grow old because we stop playing, according to George Bernard Shaw.

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Growing Up with Undiagnosed Asperger’s Syndrome

The Spectrum Bloggers Network is a network of bloggers with learning disabilities, autism spectrum disorders, etc. The founder uses the abbreviation SpLD, which stands for specific learning difficulty, though I would use neurodevelopmental disisability. I’ve been a member of this blog network for about a month, and this is my first time participating in topic Tuesday, which was posted a bit late on Wednesday. The topic is “children”. What this means is a bit vague, andd it can be interpreted in several ways.


  • What does it mean to be a child with a neurodevelopmental disability?

  • What advice would you give to parents of children with a neurodevelopmental disability?

  • Having or wanting children as a person with a neurodevelopmental disability.


I could write on all of these topics, but am going to focus on the first.

I grew up in the 1990s. This means that, while autism, including Asperger’s, was known to the psychiatric community, the general public wasn’t nearly as aware of it as it is now. My parents knew some about autism, as they later told my diagnostician that they’d suspected it in me from an early age on. Then again, the idea that autism affected those with an intellectual disability only, was still pretty prevalent especially when I was a young child in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Asperger’s wasn’t added to the DSM as a specific condition till 1994, after all.

My parents recognized my intelligence very early on too, and they wanted to challenge me as much as possible. I cherish early memories of learning difficult math concepts like squareroots and calendar calculation. Unlike what is thought about intellectually disabled calendar calculation savants, I understood the underlying concetps. Nonetheless, calendar calculation was definitely a perseveration of mine.

I was largely unaware of my social and behavioral difficulties. I did realize I spent many hours in my room as a punishment, but didn’t know why. I also knew that I had few friends. That is, when I still went to the school for the partially sighted for first, second and third grade, I had some friends, mostly older girls. They mostly admired my advanced academic abilities and other than that liked to baby me. In regular Kindergarten, I had one friend. Other children didn’t really bully me yet, but they obviously didn’t accept me.

My parents claim that the real problems didn’t start until I was around nine. When I moved to a new school for the blind in 1995 and moved to a new city the next year, I started noticing that I had few to no friends. Looking back, I realize that I approached potential friends in a hugely childish way. One of my classmates used to ask her frieend for candy, saying: “Got something to chew on?” in a certain tone of voice. I don’t think I realized these girls were friends for other reasons than candy, and I often imitated the one girl asking the other for candy myself. In fourth grade, I had only one friend, a third-grader who remained my friend till I left elementary school, but I wasn’t really excluded or bullied. In fifth and sixth grade, I was. In the neighborhood, my only “friends” were my sister’s friends’ big sisters.

I don’t know at what age my temper outbursts became abnormal. Like, I know that, at five, I had a temper outburst over my father saying only kids under six could access a treehouse, worrying what would happen to me accessing the treehouse next year. This worry seems a bit silly to me for a five-year-old, but having a temper outburst is normal at that age, right? When I was still having these temper outbursts at ten, this became a significant problem. The fact that I still have them now that I’m nearly 28, well, you get the idea.

I was nine when my paretns were pressured by the school into sending me to play therapy. I don’t remember that play therapy was all that useful. I threw out purple miniature dolls because people aren’t purple, tried to get the water tray to overflow just to see if I could, and fought using toy swords with the therapist. After four sessions, summer vacation arrived and my parents took me out. I hated having to miss out on biology class anyway.

I didn’t have an extreme need for predictability. I was somewhat resistant to change, particcularly if plans that I’d been made aware of, were changed. This however looks like a bit of a “my way or the highway” attitude, and maybe it was. I do admit that I was particularly self-centered. I still am somewhat, having to really consciously think about taking another person’s perspective into account. This, rather than rigid routines, seems to be more why I am and was resistant to change. Please note that self-centeredness is in fact common in autistics, and it is not the same as selfishness.

I was eight when Asperger’s was added to the DSM. Then again, none of my school psychologists suggested I had it. My parents did take me to many different psychologists for second and third opinions, but this was mostly to validate that I was indeed intelligent, which the school for the blind often questioned or outright denied. The focus as far as social/emotional issues were concerned, lay on my temper outbursts. It is in this sense kind of interesting that these same outbursts weren’t looked upon as anything other than low tolerance for distress in the 1990s, but were seen as the reason for an autism assessment by 2007.

Book Review: Wosie the Blind Little Bunny by Rose King

Wosie the little bunny wanders away from the blueberry bush. Because she is blind, she cannot find her way back. She finds a stick to tap and feel her way around. At one point, she touches something soft with her stick, which turns out to be Bobo the bear, who’s sleeping. After Wosie explains that she is blind and what that means, Bobo agrees to bring her to the blueberry bush, and they end up being friends from that point on.

Wosie the Blind Little Bunny is suitable for ages three and up. It is written in a beautifully poetic way. I ended up smiling at the rhyming several times. While Wosie is not the most independent blind bunny, and therefore some self-proclaimed competent blind adults might find this story offensive, you have to remember that Wosie is a little bunny. The story does explain the fct that blind bunnies can hear and feel fine. Overall, I liked the story and found ii very suitable for toddlers. It emphasizes the importance of friendship over differences.

Book Details

Title: Wosie the Blind Little Bunny
Author: Rose King
Publisher: Xlibris
Publication date: January 2013