When Kelly talks about her son, Aiden Lopez, her voice carries both strength and gratitude.

Aiden is 11 years old. He has autism and was born with bilateral club feet. From a very young age, his journey has included extra appointments, therapies, and advocacy. But beyond the diagnoses is a boy who loves to sing, dance, laugh, and pack his bags for the place he calls one of his favorites: Rising Treetops.

Aiden lives at home with his mom, his older brother Jonathan (Jon), and his sister Soraya (Yaya). Kelly has always been a fiercely protective parent. Like many families raising a child with developmental disabilities, trust doesn’t come easily. You learn quickly that not everyone understands your child’s needs. Not every space is truly inclusive.

Aiden has been part of Rising Treetops since he was about six or seven years old. Over time, it has become more than a program — it has become a second home.

At school, Aiden’s progress has been remarkable. He previously attended District 75 and now attends Hawthorn Country Day School, where he receives a 1:1 aide along with physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy. Since transferring, Kelly has seen significant growth in his speech and communication. His voice — once harder to access — is becoming stronger and clearer.

And he uses that voice to talk about what he loves.

When you ask Aiden about Rising Treetops, his answers come quickly:
He loves the gym.
He loves playing outside.
He loves arts and crafts, singing, karaoke, and dancing.
He loves his friends.
He says the staff are nice — and he likes the food, too.

But what speaks loudest isn’t just what he says. It’s what he does.

Rising Treetops is the only place other than home where Aiden will stay overnight. He won’t stay at Grandma’s house — he’ll be upset until he can go home. But when Kelly says, “Aiden, you’re going to Rising Treetops,” his response is immediate:

“Yes!”

Then he’s ready to pack his bags.

At the Brooklyn pick up site, he simply says, “Bye!” and gets on the bus. No hesitation. No fear. Just confidence.

For Kelly, that moment means everything. It tells her that her son feels safe. It tells her he feels understood. It tells her he belongs.

Rising Treetops has also given Kelly something every caregiver needs but rarely admits they crave: true rest. When Aiden is at RTO, she can breathe. She can sleep in. She can organize her home, sip her coffee, and watch TV without worry. Because she knows that if anything happens — even a small bump or scrape — someone will call. And if she calls, someone will answer or call her right back.

That consistency has built trust. And that trust has built peace.

Kelly describes Rising Treetops as “extremely amazing.” She follows along on social media, reads the stories, looks for the photos, and smiles when she sees the joy reflected back at her. She cannot say enough good things about the place that has supported her son — and her.

During Developmental Disabilities Awareness Month, Aiden’s story reminds us that inclusion is about more than services. It’s about creating environments where children feel excited to arrive, where parents feel safe enough to rest, and where growth is celebrated in every form — from clearer speech to confident goodbyes at the bus.

Support changes lives.

For Aiden, it means joy, friendship, independence, and a place he can’t wait to return to.

For his mom, it means trust.

And sometimes, trust is the greatest gift of all.