By Deborah Atkinson

Medically challenged infants who require round-the-clock attention field scores of volunteers willing to sit through the night so weary and worried parents can sleep.

What about the child who plays with fire, self-injures or sneaks out the bedroom window in the middle of the night? Who will give the primary caregiver respite and love such a child?

As a single parent, I've been on both the giving and receiving side of compassionate service, so I have a few ideas for those who want to help but don't know how. My first suggestion is to not feel intimidated. My second is this: Don't wait for a weary parent to ask for help.

Most troubled kids have what specialists call “honeymoon” periods. They enjoy meeting new people, are happy being the center of attention, and generally don't go into new situations immediately seeking to sabotage. Generally, these children are the most charming kids on the planet when you first meet them. They will go to great lengths to try to impress you.

My expertise on parenting does not include how a worried father might react, but I can describe the traumatized mom. She sits in the back of the chapel, often silent, sometimes trying to hide tears. Sometimes she doesn't enter the chapel at all. She sits in the foyer. She doesn't feel worthy. And sometimes, that's the only place she can get her children to behave. Or hide their behavior.

She probably doesn't go to Relief Society or teach Primary. She has no self-confidence in her abilities with children, and stories of successful families often break her heart because that's what she wanted, and she doesn't see how she'll ever achieve it. If she sends her child to Primary while she waits in the car, she's probably catching her breath and trying to sort out the chaos of the coming week in the only silence she gets.

She may not come to church at all. She might be afraid she won't be able to maintain a cheery and intelligent façade. Sometimes, it isn't her self-esteem that's lacking at all. She might be embarrassed to take her children out in public.

How can a visiting or home teacher, friend or potential mentor step up and help a child capable of causing such emotional debilitation? It doesn't take as much as you might think.

You can take every parenting class in the world and still never be prepared for every surprise life can throw your way, no matter the origin of a child. Kids of all ages and backgrounds are capable of inventing stratagems that haven't been addressed in any learning materials.

You don't necessarily have to go through special training to help parents of troubled children, though. If you like to play games, listen, laugh and smile, you're qualified!

Some of the best influences in my children's lives (and blessings in my life as well) were my single friends who had no experience with children other than having been young once themselves. They had time to spare, and they liked to have fun.

Most of them had pets, and sometimes all they had to do was let my kids think they were in charge of a walk around the block or a run through the park with a leashed four-legger.

Other friends were more aggressive. One would leave a pint of Ben & Jerry's (back in the day when I could still eat ice cream) on my desk with a note saying she would be picking up one of my kids that night for an overnight. She guaranteed I have some sweet memories of that period in my life!

Another allowed my kids to practice with her adult co-ed softball team, and my kids thrived on the attention they got from the entire team. One friend took my kids to a ballet. Another took them to a boy band concert and let them both scream to their hearts' content. My friend must have worn earplugs because she could hear my whispered thanks afterward.

Several friends would take my kids, individually or together, to lunch, dinner or a movie. Some would offer to help with transportation or watching my kids perform in band or orchestra concerts or in sports events when I couldn't be at both kids' venues at the same time.

One visiting teacher, who just happened to be childless, offered herself and her husband as “fill-in” parents and picked up both children after school two days a week for several months during a time when I had exhausted all child-care options.

One friend would allow my angry and mentally challenged child to call and talk on the phone as long as it took to settle the child down after an episode. This friend was available around the clock for such phone calls.

I can never repay the kindness shown by those who tried to wrap me in my Heavenly Father's arms. But I can share that kindness with others. Here are a few of the ways I have tried to pass on the kindness extended to me, ways others can help those around them.

My first adopted child has siblings. Each child's individual needs were so incredibly intense when they first entered the child protection system, caseworkers opted to separate them. The siblings were placed in homes where the parents were raising or had raised children of their own.

We adoptive families tried to get the kids together for special occasions like birthdays and baptisms or just plain old family home evenings so the children could still enjoy each other's friendship and camaraderie.

All of us wanted the “family” to stay intact.

Because I was the only parent who didn't have other children who needed my attention, it was easiest for me to take all the siblings at one time, and so that's what we did most often. This arrangement gave the other sets of parents a break of sorts from the concentrated supervision these children needed and the opportunity to focus desirable attention on their biological children.

Most such get-togethers were joyous, albeit extremely high energy. The children together were fully capable of inspiring yearnings toward retirement for a Primary sharing time leader. Just imagine what they did to their full-time parents!

I took the children camping, hiking, bicycling, shopping and even to a temple open house in another state.

I taught them to sew, bead, put together puzzles, make puzzles, play jacks and chess, build candy trains and shut off the bathroom light. I read to them. I recorded their voices as they sang or read and let them listen to themselves. I helped them make a cappella and air guitar videos with sparkly prom-like fabric as a backdrop.

I taught them how to photograph wildlife and then watched with sheer delight as they scolded tourists chasing a group of bewildered bighorn sheep, trying to get a closer picture.

Not everything impressed upon these kids stuck. But those who took the time and mustered the courage to care and share could see they were making a difference. They could see joy in the kids' faces, and they witnessed the unique wide-eyed wonder of discovery.

Although all troubled kids benefit from extra attention paid them, older adopted kids in particular learn something special. They experience a different kind of family life than what they started out with. Even though some of these particular kids eventually returned to the lifestyles of their biological families, they've seen life both ways. One day, they will be able to choose a different way because it won't be alien to them.