Hello! Today, we’re going to talk about a special story called “My Brother Charlie.” It was written by Holly Robinson Peete and her daughter, Ryan Elizabeth Peete. The pictures in the book are by Shane W. Evans. Let’s dive into this heartwarming tale!
Callie and Charlie are twins, which means they were born on the same day. They have lots of things in common, like their curly hair, brown eyes, and love for hot chocolate with marshmallows. They also have a dog named Harriett and enjoy playing football and listening to music. But even though they are twins, they are not exactly the same.
Callie loves to talk and look at the stars, while Charlie is a bit quieter and likes to watch jets and helicopters in the sky. Charlie also finds math a bit tricky. Sometimes, Charlie gets very quiet, and Callie notices this.
When Callie and Charlie were babies, Callie loved to point out flowers and snuggle with their mom. But Charlie was different. He didn’t play the same way or say “I love you.” Their mom noticed this too and found out that Charlie’s brain works in a special way because he has autism.
Autism makes it harder for Charlie to make friends and show his feelings. But Callie learned that love isn’t just about words. It’s also about what you do. So, Callie and her mom make sure to love Charlie a lot and keep him safe.
Charlie is amazing in many ways. He knows the names of all the American presidents and is great at swimming. He also has a special bond with animals, especially their dog, Harriett. Charlie loves to share his shell collection and play the piano. He even helps Callie when she gets hurt, showing how much he cares.
One day, Charlie found the words to say “I love you” to Callie. It was a special moment that Callie will always remember. Charlie may have autism, but it doesn’t define who he is. If you ever meet Charlie, you’ll see how wonderful he is just by being himself.
Holly and her daughter Ryan wrote this book together to help people understand Charlie’s world. Ryan wanted to show that with a little extra effort, you can make a big difference in the lives of children with autism. They are special and amazing if you give them a chance and accept them with love and kindness.
If you know someone with autism or a family going through a tough time, remember to never give up hope. Everyone is unique and can do amazing things with love and support.
Thank you for joining us for this story! Keep reading and discovering new adventures. Remember, every story has something special to teach us!
Autism Awareness Art: Create a piece of art that represents what makes you unique. Use crayons, markers, or colored pencils to draw something that shows your special talents or interests, just like Charlie’s love for swimming and his shell collection. Share your artwork with the class and talk about how everyone has different strengths and things they love to do.
Empathy Exercise: Pair up with a classmate and take turns sharing something that you find challenging, like Charlie finds math tricky. Then, discuss ways you can help each other with those challenges. This activity helps you understand how to support friends who might need a little extra help, just like Callie supports Charlie.
Observation Walk: Go on a short walk around your school or neighborhood with a teacher or parent. Look for things that you think Charlie might enjoy, like watching jets or helicopters, or things that you enjoy. Write down or draw what you see and share it with the class. This helps you notice and appreciate the different things that make people happy.
Sure! Here’s a sanitized version of the transcript:
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[Storyline Online intro] Welcome to Storyline Online, brought to you by the SAG-AFTRA Foundation. I’m Holly Robinson Peete, and today I’m going to read “My Brother Charlie,” written by me, Holly Robinson Peete, and my daughter, Ryan Elizabeth Peete, with pictures by Shane W. Evans.
We’ve always been together—even in Mommy’s tummy—my twin brother, Charlie, and me. We still share lots of things: curly hair and brown eyes, our love for hot chocolate with marshmallows, our dog, Harriett, rolling in the grass, music, football, and names that start with the letter C—Callie and Charlie. But being twins doesn’t make us exactly the same. I’m two minutes younger than Charlie. I can stare for hours at the Big Dipper and the moon, and I love to talk. Charlie is skinnier and goofier than me. He hates math. When he looks at the sky, he finds jets and helicopters. And sometimes my brother gets very quiet.
When we were babies, I pointed out flowers and cats and fireflies. I snuggled and giggled with Mommy on dark nights and told her how much I love her. But Charlie was different. He wouldn’t play with me or kiss Mommy’s cheeks when she hugged him. And he didn’t say “I love you.” It seemed those words were locked deep inside my brother. Everyone told Mommy not to worry. “He’s just being a boy,” they said. But Mommy knew there was something different about Charlie. I knew it, too.
As we grew older, Mommy watched Charlie very carefully. She and I could see he was struggling. Then Mommy discovered that Charlie’s brain works in a special way because Charlie has autism. It’s harder for Charlie to make friends, show his feelings, or stay safe. One doctor even told Mommy that Charlie would never say “I love you.” That made Mommy and me very sad.
I have learned from Charlie that love doesn’t always come from what you say. It can also come from what you do. And so we do right by Charlie. We love Charlie strong. We watch over him with care. We have to. When Charlie wants something, nothing stops him, even when it’s dangerous. And there are days when it’s hard to be Charlie’s sister. Sometimes he can ruin the best playdates. Other times he seems so far away, like when he won’t look at me or speak or play. I wish I could crawl inside Charlie’s world to move things around for him and for me. I know Charlie wants to be in my world, fitting in, making friends, having fun, and laughing.
There are good times with Charlie, too—when Charlie looks right at me and welcomes me with his smile. He lets me touch his face. He laughs when we lock fingers in a holding-hands game. That’s Charlie’s way of saying “I love you,” expressed in the silly ways we play together. Charlie is good at so much. He knows the names of all the American presidents! He’s a fish in the water. He has a special way with animals, especially Harriett. When Harriett and Charlie are together, there’s even more love expressed in the way only Charlie can, when he gets Harriett to sit, run, or listen.
Charlie’s got a mind that tests things—shoelaces, paper clips, apples, pinecones. And he enjoys sharing. He likes to show off his shell collection, his new sneakers, and how well he plays “Itsy Bitsy Spider” on the piano. Charlie likes to share how sweet he is and how much he cares about other people. When I fall off my bike or bump my head, Charlie comes running. He always makes my hurts feel better with the caring that comes from his eyes.
Sometimes, when Charlie can find the words—when they unlock themselves from inside him—he does say “I love you.” I will always remember the first time I heard him say it. So clear and kind. So Charlie. I banged my toe hard and cried. There was my brother, patting my back, saying over and over again, “Don’t cry, Callie, I love you.” It wasn’t just the words that were so strong. It was the love that Charlie showed me, just by being there. “I love you, too, Charlie,” came from me quickly.
Charlie has autism, but autism doesn’t define Charlie. If you ever get to meet my brother, you’ll feel lucky to be his friend. He won’t care if you have the coolest sneakers or if you are the best at sports. He’ll just like you for who you really are. That’s Charlie. I’m blessed to be Charlie’s sister and to share so much. I count my “Charlie Blessings” every day. At the very top of my “Charlie Blessings” list is the love Charlie and I have for each other, expressed in so many ways.
One of the reasons why I’m so proud of “My Brother Charlie” is because my daughter came to me with the idea to write this book, and we wrote it together. What a wonderful experience to be able to write a book with your daughter who was twelve years old when we wrote this book. She decided that she wanted to advocate for her twin brother. I think Ryan’s goal was to help people come into her twin brother’s world and understand that it takes a little extra effort but makes a big difference if you just try to engage with him.
Children with autism are special, unique, and amazing if you just give them a chance, if you just accept who they are with love, patience, and kindness. And so, if you know a family or someone who is struggling or who has autism or a family who just got diagnosed, the number one thing I tell people is to never give up hope. And never let anyone tell you what your child will be or what they will never do.
Thank you for watching Storyline Online. Make sure to check out all of our stories. Keep watching and keep reading. [Storyline Online credits]
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This version maintains the essence of the original transcript while ensuring it is appropriate for all audiences.
