This is a partial repost, revision of a story – obviously I don't have anything official to do with 'Enterprise' – nor could I ever 'make money off of this' but it is satisfying none-the-less.
Most of the people who were on the staff at the church, during the eleven o'clock service, that watched the clients who were dropped off by their caregivers, were nuns – trained to be teachers, or at least had made a commitment for 'service'. All but one of the staff, and he was a thin, dark-haired, young man of thirteen years, who although he was of an age to be a teenager – Malcolm never did quite fit the criteria.
(Actually it would have been just as accurate to refer to the clients as patients – though nothing was official – and was only a break so that the caregivers could go to Mass without having to worry about their relatives.)
How did Malcolm Reed get involved? That was a bit of a mystery – although most assuredly nuns were the motive force somehow. It really didn't matter. Malcolm had also made a commitment to be at the church to help, that was all that mattered. Once he said he would do something, he would follow through. That was his nature.
He saw how the nuns taught the people with the mental age of small children all about the Christ and gave them an 'understanding' appropriate for their ability. The students, though they might be in their twenties, thirties, and even forties – enjoyed the stories and the joy evident was 'heartwarming'. All in all it was mostly 'a happy duty' to assist the nuns who might need a young and willing aide.
But Malcolm Reed was drawn to help someone there who was severely impaired – a woman, whose age he couldn't guess (and didn't care), whose mental age was less than two years – who didn't speak – and who always took a wax crayon (brown) and would sit at the table (positioned by her father) for the two hours and draw 'back and forth, back and forth' . . .
Theoretically he was supposed to get people to think about 'religion' or 'the Christ' or maybe 'Baby Jesus'. In practical terms though, Malcolm was confounded by the reality of breaking through Elaine's shell. He felt a kindred spirit, and was determined to try. (Years later, some would say, "you try too hard – that is your failing, Malcolm Reed!" And he would respond, "I will not go down without a fight!")
The next Sunday he sat next to her, and drew pictures too, of 'bright suns and green grass, bunny rabbits and pretty flowers' – and told Elaine all about 'a sweet, cuddly baby' who loved her – and told her again and again how she was loved, so very loved . . . Some people thought Malcolm odd because he had a way of repeating himself to get a point across – especially if the intended recipient didn't seem to the idea he was trying to make.
It took two Sundays and almost four hours of constant talking on his part to get her to 'trade' the brown crayon for a yellow one (she still drew lines 'up and down') and he took the crayon from her toward the end of the second day and drew a big round circle encompassing the yellow area she had made and said that she had made "a pretty picture of the sun" and he pointed outside the window at the sky – where thankfully a pale yellow orb had made a dutiful appearance.
Malcolm was really surprised when he saw Elaine give him a tiny smile. Actually it 'made his day', and most of his week. The next Sunday Elaine took the yellow crayon instead of the brown and colored with that; all during the next two hours Malcolm kept trading colors with her – green, violet, blue, orange – and told her that colors of the crayons, and kept talking to her about 'Baby Jesus' – and he made 'cow' noises, and 'pig' noises, and 'duck' noises, drawing animals to show her what made such funny sounds.
(One of the nuns wasn't happy with Malcolm; she said that he didn't get much religion into his talking. The young man knew his mind. Elaine wouldn't understand, and if God was the kind of being that Malcolm knew 'Him' to be 'He' would be pleased that Elaine was using the different colored crayons.)
The next challenge was to get her to stop drawing just up and down – she was so tense and it 'hurt' just to watch 'the seeming fury' with which she made the motion; Malcolm had an idea where her anger came from. Her father was elderly and had long since regarded his daughter as a 'piece of mobile furniture', that he could move around and put to stay, until it was time for her to move someplace else. Malcolm could only imagine the strain of having to care for Elaine twenty-four hours a day.
But he could also feel the stress coming from the woman; she might not understand why, but her father's disappointment in her was heartbreaking . . .
Malcolm's parents were disappointed in him too; he knew this as well as he knew his own name. It was an unspoken-of reality. "I am not who they want." (Years later, Malcolm Reed, - as Armory/Tactical professional, but most importantly in his mind, husband of Trip Tucker – he knew why, and despite his best efforts, it still hurt. The most effective guardian of the Enterprise, who had pride of place as the 'master of war' was 'different', not 'macho' enough – not male enough in the way that counted to them. So very disappointing.)
He set out to get her to relax while drawing, and told her that by the sun there were pretty, fluffy clouds where 'Baby Jesus' and the angels lived. And that they saw she was a 'good girl', and he showed her how to draw clouds. Guiding her hand in circles instead of roughly back and forth, slowly she learned how to make sloppy round motions.
One day he asked her if he could keep one of her 'pictures'; usually he told her to take them home to show her father. This time though he asked if he could have one – she very carefully nodded – a very small movement – and he said, "Thank you, Elaine. Thank you for being my friend."
'I am a coward,' he thought, 'They are ending the program, and how do I explain? I can't!' And he left that day saddened by his lack of courage . . .