You just reminded me: my neighbor in NYC has a grandson who is autistic. When I did my laundry in the basement he would sneak out of his apartment to help me. He loved moving the wet clothes to the dryer and then he would run back home. One day, he came in, pulled on the neckline of an obviously new sweatshirt with a team logo and said "shirt". I said "Wow you have a new shirt. It looks great on you." He smiled, said "shirt" and ran away. A few minutes later his mother came in and I said "John told me about his new shirt". She looked baffled and asked what I was talking about. I repeated the story and she, almost in tears, said "John doesn't talk". He did that day. I don't know that I did anyting but listen.