When shopping in a store, I met a boy. When I saw him waving his hands excitedly in the air and shouting in a loud voice, " Mommy, I'm here," I knew he was mentally challenged. I asked his name and he said proudly, " My name is Denny and I'm shopping with my mother." "Wow," I said, " That's a cool name. How old are you, Denny?" " How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother. " You're fifteen years old, Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by." I continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about summer, bicycles and school. _  Denny's mom thanked me for talking with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said, " There are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in the garden, however, 'Blue roses'are very _ and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness . Denny is a 'Blue ses'and if someone doesn't stop and smell that rose with their heart and kindness, then they've missed a chance to appreciate the beauty." She was silent for a second, and then went away with tears in her eyes. What's wrong with the boy?
He didn't know his name and age There was something wrong with his mind He lost his way He couldn't find his mother.