One of our friends at church is a little boy who lives with his sisters and grandma -- his mother was involved in drugs and various other shenanigans, and Grandma got permanent custody of the children. The kids took a shine to us, and the boy particularly to Fellow Traveler. He's a bright, funny, curious child whom I suspect has been overanalyzed, overdiagnosed, overtherapized and otherwise excessively hovered over by various caring adults until it's hard for him to be a kid.
When I'm assisting in church FT has taken to sitting in the narthex nosebleed section with him to give Grandma a break and to keep him from spinning out of control. She says he's keenly interested in the church service, so she spends a lot of time explaining to him what's going on. She also, on occasion, has to keep a rheotrical foot up his rhetorical fanny so he doesn't harrass his sisters, talk loudly or wander around looking for trouble.
The last time they sat together he drew Fellow Traveler a picture of an airplane -- he knows she used to serve in the Air Force -- with this note: You are a graet fraind to me. Thank you fary much. We loved this so much we've added it to our fridge art.
He also told FT, "I like you because you don't yell at me, but you're still able to make me mind."