Little Abbie came to school one day, With bouncy steps and hair of light brown sway. She loved to jump and spin around, But sometimes didn't like loud sound. The other kids would stop and stare, As Abbie flapped her hands in air. She lined her toys in perfect rows, And hummed a tune that no one knows. The teacher smiled and said with care, "Let's make sure everyone's aware, That Abbie's special, smart, and kind, With a unique and brilliant mind." The children watched with curious eyes, Wondering about this new surprise.

Twelve-year-old Lilly sat nearby, With long blonde hair and watchful eye. She saw how Abbie played alone, In her own world, a special zone. At recess time, the playground buzzed, But Abbie stayed where nothing was. She rocked and hummed her favorite song, While others ran and played along. Lilly thought about her way, Of how young Abbie chose to play. "She's different," some kids liked to say, But Lilly watched a different way. She saw a girl with her own style, And thought, "I'd like to make her smile."

Lilly read books to understand, About autism, to lend a hand. She learned that Abbie's brain was bright, Just processed things in different light. Some textures felt like scratchy pain, Loud noises felt like pouring rain. But Abbie noticed every star, And knew where all the flowers are. She remembered every single date, And colors she could name just great. Lilly smiled with growing pride, "I want to be right by her side. She's not less, she's just unique, A special friend I'd like to meet."

Next morning, Lilly walked up slow, And gave a gentle, soft hello. Abbie didn't look her way, But Lilly knew that was okay. "I like your shoes," said Lilly bright, "Those purple laces look just right." Abbie glanced down at her feet, And rocked in rhythm, steady beat. "Purple, purple, two-two-two, I have a purple pencil too." Lilly grinned, "That's really neat! May I sit here, in this seat?" Abbie nodded, hummed her tune, Underneath the morning moon.

Days went by and Lilly stayed, Beside young Abbie as she played. She learned that Abbie loved to spin, And watch the patterns colors bring. "Look, look!" cried Abbie with delight, "The shadows make a checkered sight!" Lilly looked and saw it too, The squares of black and sunny blue. "You see the world in special ways, You notice things throughout the days." Abbie smiled, a rare bright grin, Lilly felt warmth bloom within. Together they would sit and see, The world's amazing mystery.

But some kids didn't understand, Why Abbie flapped her busy hands. "Why does she act so very strange? Why won't she come and play our games?" Lilly stood up straight and tall, "She's not strange, not weird at all! Abbie's brain works differently, She sees the world uniquely. She's really smart and really kind, With an amazing, special mind." The children shuffled, looked around, Some nodded at the words they found. Lilly hoped they'd understand, And maybe offer out their hand.

Abbie brought a rock one day, Smooth and gray in every way. She placed it in young Lilly's hand, "Smooth, smooth, smooth," was all she'd said. Lilly held it, felt the stone, Knew this gift was Abbie's own. "Thank you, Abbie, this is great! You're the best, most special mate." Abbie's eyes met hers at last, A moment that would hold so fast. "Friend," said Abbie, soft and clear, Lilly felt a happy tear. "Yes, I'm your friend, forever true, I'm so glad I met you!"

Lilly asked the teacher kind, If she could help the class to find, Ways to understand and see, How special differences can be. The teacher smiled and said, "Let's try, To help the children learn just why, Everyone is different, true, With special things that they can do." Lilly talked about her friend, How Abbie's gifts would never end. "She remembers everything, Sees patterns, counts, and loves to sing. She might not look you in the eye, But that's just Abbie's special why."

Slowly, others came around, Sat with Abbie on the ground. They learned to speak in gentle tones, And showed her special rocks and stones. One boy learned that Abbie knew, Every type of bird that flew. "She's like a bird encyclopedia!" He told his friends with joy so clear. Another girl discovered that, Abbie loved to draw and chat, About the planets way up high, And constellations in the sky. More children saw what Lilly knew, That Abbie's gifts were real and true.

In math class, Abbie worked with speed, Solving problems others need, More time to think and figure out, While Abbie knew without a doubt. "Seven times eight is fifty-six! I love to work with numbers' tricks!" In art, she drew with careful lines, Perfect circles every time. "Look at Abbie's drawing there! She makes it look so clean and fair!" The teacher smiled with pride so bright, "Every child has special might. Abbie shows us every day, That different minds can light the way."

At lunch, now Abbie didn't sit, All alone, not one small bit. Lilly sat right by her side, Along with friends both far and wide. They learned what Abbie liked to eat, And gave her space when she'd retreat. They understood when she would hum, Or line up pretzels one by one. "Different doesn't mean less," they'd say, "It means unique in every way!" Abbie smiled more every day, In her own special, lovely way. And Lilly knew within her heart, True friendship's where acceptance starts.

The school year passed with joy and fun, Abbie knew she wasn't alone. She'd found a friend in Lilly true, And other friends who understood too. They celebrated all her gifts, The way her special thinking shifts. Her memory, her careful eye, Her knowledge of the stars up high. Lilly told her every day, "You're different, Abbie, in best way! You're not less than anyone, You're special, bright, and second to none!" And Abbie smiled, her heart so light, "Friend forever, holding tight." Different not less, they both knew well, A story that their hearts would tell.