AN INSPIRING STORY
Do you need some inspiration today?  Need a little boost to keep on taking on the day?  Read this story about a young man named Armando Saltiel.  He doesn't have Moebius Syndrome.  His special needs actually are far more extensive than for most.  But, with the help of others, he's been able to become an amazing artist--even though all he can move are his eyes:
"Armando Saltiel’s parents used to take him skiing in Aspen, but the altitude became too much for his fragile lungs. He rode horses, too, but his severe scoliosis made that intolerable.
Born with a genetic brain abnormality that limits his communication to eye movements, “Mandi” was becoming more withdrawn. His parents feared he was shutting down completely. So, they settled on a curious activity for their son, largely because they could think of almost nothing else for him.
They let him make art.

It seems like a ridiculous concept — a young man who can barely move his head creating art. But the Saltiels saw what happened when their son started working with artist Julie Ludwick, and it was transformative.
Now, a partnership is developing, and this activity Saltiel came to almost as a last resort has become a salvation, potentially a career. As impossible as it sounds, Mandi Saltiel is an artist.
“It’s like he’s trapped in his body because he’s nonverbal and he’s so physically (challenged),” said his mother, Lori Saltiel. “Everyone wants a purpose. He’s expressing himself. He’s telling us something he has within him that he can’t verbalize.”
Saltiel, 21, of Libertyville, Ill., expresses those thoughts through painstaking sessions with Ludwick, an art therapist who began working with him in 2008 at Equestrian Connection, a therapeutic horseback riding center in Lake Forest, Ill., after riding ended.

One of their earliest pieces is a tangle of jagged blue and green marks on paper.
The two refined their communication. Ludwick soon determined that Saltiel wanted to tear colored paper, cut photos and glue both on his pieces. Then they started gluing objects, including beads, bingo chips, feathers, flowers, polished stones, sea shells and bottle caps, to the surface.
Saltiel’s art work grew. “Keep On Truckin’,” depicting the landscape of his perilous life through the use of paint, strips of photographs, seashells, polished stones, and a picture of an SUV, is 5 feet wide and nearly 2 feet high. “My Garden of Possibilities,” meant to convey his potential, is almost the same size.
But “Lori’s Oasis” may answer the obvious question of who really is creating this art — Ludwick, who has a master’s in art therapy, or the severely debilitated young man in the wheelchair?
“Lori’s Oasis,” which represents Lori Saltiel’s interests, shows photos of blue and yellow furniture and a couch overflowing with pillows — all of which are in the family’s living room. Saltiel and Ludwick completed the piece before Ludwick had seen the Saltiels’ home.

“If this wasn’t his work,” Lori Saltiel said, “I wouldn’t pay for these sessions,” which are $60 an hour. She pointed to “Keep On Truckin’.” “This is the stuff he went through. If this wasn’t his, I wouldn’t have paid $650 to frame it. It would have been rolled up and put away.”
Ludwick, 28, describes the art-making as “communicating through a very complicated version of Twenty Questions. Obviously, there’s a part of me in these,” she added, “just like anybody who is an art instructor.”
But seeing Ludwick and Saltiel work underscores her role as art conduit.
Saltiel applies all the paint in his pieces. Ludwick places a wrist wrap on his right hand, slips a paintbrush into it then supports the hand or elbow. He chooses a color and slides the brush on the surface.
When Ludwick works on a piece, she constantly checks and double-checks with Saltiel on selection and placement of colors and objects. She cheers him and suggests what each object, color or position may mean to him.
Saltiel communicates “yes” by rolling his eyes toward the top of his head, and “no” by moving his gaze to the right. The partners work two hours a week and can take six months to complete a piece."

Read the whole thing...

ANOTHER MOEBIUS HERO
And that is a young boy from the UK named Titan Fairlie, who has Moebius Syndrome, and all those who are striving to help him--by climbing:
"Money raised by Darwin's The Rock climbing gym last weekend will go to the family of a battling NT toddler.
A rock wall - set up by Health Education and Learning Programs (HELP) NT which runs the centre - provided entertainment to kids and even some NT politicians who harnessed up to test their agility at the Darwin Boat Show. But the highlight was the launch of a new portable climbing wall for kids with disabilities.
Titan Fairlie, 3, who suffers from the rare neurological disorder Moebius syndrome, was a guest of honour. He was one of the first to play on the "Fishing Co-ordination Wall" - part of HELP's Swimming for Success program.
Co-ordinator Carolyn Reynolds said the new wall would help kids with disabilities develop their co-ordination, gross motor skills and confidence.
"This is my gift to Darwin," she said.

Ms Reynolds - who had a serious brain injury five years ago - said she saw how little help there was for disadvantaged families in the Top End.

"Now I'm getting better I can't just sit back and do nothing," she said.
"I can help other struggling families so I will."
The former teacher said the kids were encouraged to name the fish and a helicopter on the wall, included as a symbol of "climbing to new heights".
Funds raised by the centre at the weekend went to the Fairlie family, who had returned from Melbourne where Titan had his third eye operation in a month.
"They never ask for help," Ms Reynolds said.
Parents Mai and Keith Fairlie said they were blown away at the generosity. Along with being born paralysed down the right side of his body, Titan also has severe autism, complex seizures and a cross chromosome.
"Caroline's kindness came out of the blue," Mr Fairlie said. The Fairlies have been to Melbourne 14 times for their son's mobility operations and plastic surgery with more to come."

"A leader is a dealer in hope."--Napoleon Bonaparte