On these days of Hanukkah, as Jews light the menorah’s candles, they recite a blessing for miracles of the past, for enemies vanquished and for lamp oil sustained. What might constitute a Hanukkah miracle today depends, perhaps, on what one needs and what one asks. It could even happen on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
Early in the summer six or seven years ago, Nancy J. Crown set about looking for a part-time job for her teenage daughter, Sadie. By now, as both a mother and a psychologist, Ms. Crown was all too familiar with the struggle of finding any person, any program, any place suitable for a child with autism.
Doctor, dentist, swimming lessons, vocational therapy, tutoring, ballet, even a pair of shoes without buckles or laces – every part of Sadie’s life, it sometimes seemed, plunged Ms. Crown into a lonely quest.