When I was growing up in the Bronx, most of my family lived only a few miles from each other. That meant that part of every holiday was hopping from place to place to see relatives on both sides of the family. I loved all the hustle and bustle. I enjoyed seeing so many family members and the friends that came with each change of location. I had favorite foods from each house too.

There was one holiday and the one thing I remember most was my coat. For some reason that year, it felt like I had spent all day putting it on and off or waiting in it as we took a very long time to say goodbye (an Italian tradition, I think).

My family still does some of that hopping on Thanksgiving now. We spend the early part of the day with my family for dinner and then we drive for 90 minutes or so to see my husband Bill's family in the Catskills for dessert and a sleepover. It is wonderful to see everyone, but Peter has mixed feelings. He gets nervous about leaving our house and he worries about the dogs. They are two of the gentlest pets you will meet, but they are anything but predictable. Those with autistic spectrum disorders like predictability.

Each year Peter adjusts a bit more to the holidays. He has more language to tell me what is stressing him out. He has more events that have occurred so he can plan for what might happen. When he worries about the dogs, for example, I remind him they have never bothered him in the past. That helps quite a bit.

So this Thanksgiving I didn't have to focus solely on routine. Our family talked about why we celebrated Thanksgiving and what it meant. We sent our usual gift to the family we adopt at the holidays so they could have a feast too. The girls collected food for food pantries.

Since Peter gets quiet at times like these I was not sure whether he was absorbing as much as the girls had.

A few days before Thanksgiving, Bill and I received a letter that was mailed to us by Peter's religious education teacher. It was written by Peter. It made me cry because it was a letter about everything Peter said he is thankful for.

Just in case I was wondering if Peter understood, here was the proof. What I liked most about the letter was that it was genuine. It talked about the things and people that truly mean the most to Peter.

It read: "I am thankful for all the blessings in my life my parents and my freedom. My Wii, my family, for food and my pets and nature and my clothes."

Once I saw the Wii in the letter I knew the letter was genuinely Peter's. That meant he had written it, not copied it. Did the teacher realize what a gift she had mailed? With all I am grateful for this year, I find myself most grateful for the little things.