Lucas was diagnosed as autistic at the age of three. His mother, a primary school teacher, shares her thoughts:

Lucas's autism has made me reassess the nature of human communication. Language is not the only medium. Music can be just as valid as a means to convey feelings, preferences, frustrations. Lucas often goes to his musical toys when he seems lost. Singing always pacifies him. It also can get him out of a repetitive activity when he seems locked inside it. It is one of the few activities his brothers can share with him. Music can even distract him from a TV screen when all our best offerings have failed. I played the recorder yesterday, to stop him from hitting the TV cabinet with a video he was not allowed to watch. He stopped, came to me immediately and sat in front of me. When I stopped, he moved the recorder back into my mouth and looked at me expectantly (which shows a certain degree of moral fortitude, since I play atrociously badly).

These moments are precious. Music and music therapy open a door into a space we can both inhabit. In this space, Lucas never feels threatened, and I never feel hopeless. In this space, Lucas can learn new skills, and we can rejoice in his achievement. When he taps a rhythm, when he presses buttons on his toy to create a melody, he doesn't talk, but he does communicate. However loud, however discordant the sounds are, they are his tune, and he will be heard.

I remember meeting the mum of a little autistic girl after her very first music therapy session. This woman told me her jaws were aching from grinning so much. For the first time, she had seen her child enjoy a shared activity, respond to the rhythm and sounds of the piano with her own running footsteps, look up and smile at the music therapist. These are huge steps for a child who seems so distant and withdrawn you sometimes wonder if your love for her even gets through. With music, it can.

We can't all talk and share in the same ways. But we all can dance; we just need to find the right tune.