One of the highlights of summer for our boys is going to the fair.

We mainly go for the rides and the lemonade.

At this point, we’ve been there enough times that they both have their favorite rides picked out. They know exactly what they want to ride first, which ones they want to ride again, and which ones they can probably skip.

But it wasn’t always this way.

I was thinking about this recently and realized how often the changes are so small that you don’t really notice them happening. You just keep taking the next step, trying something new, and eventually you look back and realize you’ve made a huge leap from where you started.

Today, the boys beg to go to the fair.

Early on, that wasn’t the case.

When the Fair Was Overwhelming

When you look at the fair through Titus’ eyes—or, more accurately, without sight—it’s easy to understand why it was overwhelming.

Imagine walking into a place you’ve never experienced before. There are crowds of people everywhere, music coming from different directions, rides making unfamiliar noises, and people screaming as they fly past you.

For Titus, it was a lot.

It took some convincing from Grandma to get him to try a few rides. She kept telling him he would love them and eventually he decided to give it a try.

His brother, however, was ready to ride everything. He had a whole list of rides he wanted to try, including the Wacky Worm roller coaster.

We couldn’t convince Titus to get on the little roller coaster with his brother that year.

And you know what?

That was okay.

He found a few rides he enjoyed, and we decided it was a successful first summer at the fair.

Trying Again Somewhere New

The following spring, we decided to take a small family vacation to an indoor amusement park with even more rides and things to explore.

I went into the trip feeling pretty optimistic. We had made some progress at the fair the previous summer, so I thought maybe we’d conquered some of those nerves and both boys would be ready to jump right in.

I was wrong.

When we walked into the amusement park, Trenton’s eyes lit up. There were characters, colorful rides, lights, and things to look at everywhere.

Titus was just as apprehensive as he had been at the fair.

So we started small.

We walked around, talked about the different rides, and explained what was happening. There were plenty of “no’s” along the way.

Eventually, we found a bouncy house.

His brother became his sighted guide, and the two of them climbed in together.

It was the perfect icebreaker.

Once Titus had an experience that felt fun and safe, some of the uncertainty started to disappear.

By the end of the day, he had found his favorite ride—a semi-truck that he could pretend to steer.

He probably rode it 20 times.

While I took his brother to check out some of the other rides, Titus happily kept going back to his truck.

The trip was a success.

Both boys had a great time.

And the parents were exhausted.

One Year Can Make a Big Difference

A year later, we went back to the fair.

This time, something was different.

Titus was willing to try the Wacky Worm.

The same ride he had refused the year before.

And guess what?

He loved it.

It’s still one of his top five rides at the fair.

Was it simply because he was a year older?

Maybe.

But I think it was more than that.

He had experience now.

He knew what a fair sounded like. He knew what it felt like to ride. He had learned that a new experience could be scary at first and still turn out to be fun.

The unknown wasn’t quite so unknown anymore.

Small Steps Add Up

This is why we keep saying yes to opportunities.

Not because we expect Titus to love everything.

Not because we want to force him to do things he’s uncomfortable with.

And definitely not because every experience is going to be a success.

Sometimes the answer is still no.

Sometimes we try something and decide it’s not for him.

That’s okay.

The goal is to give him opportunities to experience the world, with his family beside him, while giving him the support he needs to feel safe enough to try.

Every new experience gives him another picture to put in his mental map of the world.

The more places he visits, sounds he hears, rides he experiences, and things he gets to touch and explore, the more familiar the world becomes.

And someday, when we’re not right beside him, those experiences will help him know what to expect.

That’s the part I think about when I look back at that first fair.

At the time, we were just trying to get him on a few rides.

We didn’t realize we were building toward something much bigger.

We were building confidence.

We were building familiarity.

We were building independence.

And sometimes progress doesn’t look like a huge milestone.

Sometimes it looks like a little boy who once said “no” to a roller coaster climbing into that same ride a year later and smiling from ear to ear.

Those are the moments that remind me just how far we’ve come.