Zachary Gostnell sits cross-legged on the floor of his sister’s Zoe’s pink room.

The 6-year-old boy with a round face and buzzed hair stares vacantly at a “Shrek” video. His fingers clasp a washcloth. He flaps his hands as if he’s a bird trying to take flight.

His eyes try to stay fixed on the video, but Shrek is no match for 3-year-old Zoe. She jumps on the bed, blond hair splaying, enticing him to join in. They playfully wrestle as their mom, Julie, looks on with maternal caution and approval.

“It is good that he is showing some kind of emotion, some kind of interaction,” she says.

Zachary has autism. He doesn’t talk. Eye contact is limited. He needs constant supervision. He is trapped in a shell that his family and therapists are trying to crack. What goes on inside his head is a mystery, even to his mom.

“I think he knows more than he can tell us. Sometimes he gives you a (knowing) look,” Julie says. “He has a lot of love to give. He just gives it differently.”

He goes to speech, sensory and feeding therapy. Therapists come to the home.

It is a way of life for the Gostnell family, where dad, Brandon, works at Comcast and Julie is a certified nursing assistant for Zachary.

“Zoe is a mother hen,” Julie says. “She’s the little sister, but she’s his big sister.”

He’s a good sport when she makes him play “Ring Around the Rosie” with her.

Zachary attends an autism program at school, but there’s no place like home for the boy who often keeps a poker face.

“When he gets off the bus,” Julie says, “there is a big smile on his face.”

As for Julie: “I just go day-to-day. It is difficult and it’s challenging, but I’ve learned to find the joy in it,” she says. “Zachary is so real. We put on fronts for people, but he will always be real. He doesn’t care what people think about him; he is going to be who he is, whether or not he has a title of autism.”

When, on a recent day, her barefoot son makes the hand sign for “shoes” without prompting, she gets excited. It might not seem like much, but it is.

There are other signs of progress. He’s better in public places, with fewer meltdowns. If people give her weird looks when he plops on the floor or makes odd noises, she hands out “my son has autism” cards that explain what it is. She wants him to be accepted.

Memorial Hospital shares this goal. Zachary is Mr. January in a 2010 Memorial calendar that is free at King Soopers and City Market stores. It shows him happily playing in a tub of plastic balls at a therapy session.

The calendar profiles four Memorial pediatric patients, along with an uplifting collection of kid shots by photographer Anslee Willett.

What better way to mark the days of 2010.

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Contract the writer at 636-0253.

Zachary Gostnell in therapy at Memorial Hospital’s Pediatric Rehabilitation Program Photo by Photo courtesy of Anslee Willett

Zachary Gostnell Photo by Photo courtesy of Anslee Willett

Andrea Brown, Your Space columnist Photo by