It was 4 in the afternoon when the driver of an SUV — talking on her cellphone and wearing an ankle cast that got stuck in the accelerator — plowed through a wall of a Redmond day care.

Three toddlers were hurt in the Aug. 3, 2009, crash, with injuries ranging from a rug burn to those suffered by Sterling Metz, who was all of 3 ½ months. He was pulled out from under the Toyota Rav 4's front bumper.

Sterling suffered "a compressed spine with injuries to multiple vertebrae as well as misalignment of his cranial plates," police said later. He also had a diagnosis of failure to thrive.

His parents, Heidi and Curtis Metz, say that accident turned their lives upside down.

"He wouldn't roll over anymore, he withdrew, he stopped smiling, stopped looking at people, he was highly fearful of any noise," remembers Heidi Metz. "Within five days, he'd stop breathing. He would just start wheezing to where he was blue."

The little boy's development has been so slow since the crash that one of the places his parents have turned to is Kindering in Bellevue, one of the agencies helped by The Seattle Times' Fund For The Needy.

At Kindering, for five decades, children like Sterling have gotten the therapy to help them with everything from walking to speech to feeding themselves.

Sandra Jolley is a pediatric and psychiatric nurse practitioner with the University of Washington's Medical Center. She has been seeing Sterling since October 2010.

"It sounded like he had a PTSD kind of experience and possibly a concussion that affected his brain development," she says. "His speech is severely delayed. He is not eating by himself. He can put food in his mouth, but mostly they still feed him."

At 2 ½, most boys would be walking, running and climbing, she said.

A few days ago, an exciting milestone took place in Sterling's life and that of his mom, who was there to witness it:

As an occupational therapist looked on, Sterling let go of a metal walker he uses for balance and took four or five steps by himself.

The nonprofit provides such help for children up to 3 years old, when school districts take over.

"I don't know what we'll do when he 'ages out' at 3," said Metz. "We're so grateful. It is so painful to come to the realization that your child is going to need a lot of help to survive."

Kindering, she said, has been a haven.

Mimi Siegel, executive director of Kindering, says a third of the center's graduates at age 3 — in 2010, that was 141 children — no longer need special education in the following two years. Siegel says she estimates that amounts to about $1.6 million in savings for school districts.

Kindering also works with the families of the children in their program, offering such services as therapists to helps parents deal with their emotions and groups especially for fathers, mothers or siblings of children with special needs.

A day that changed everything

Until that afternoon in 2009, the Metzes' life was that of a Microsoft couple — the husband was a program manager, the wife did contract work for the company on education — with three healthy children.

The driver, 40, who had driven to the day care to pick up her granddaughter, later pleaded guilty to reckless driving and reckless endangerment. She received a 12-month suspended sentence and 240 hours of community service.

Anger about what happened?

Yes, certainly, says Metz.

In a letter to the court, she wrote: " ... I will never know Sterling as he could have been. That was taken from me. Our ... struggle is how to protect and care for Sterling, without treating him like an invalid."

During one of his hospitalizations, Sterling was fitted with a tube into his nose through which he could be fed a high-calorie formula.

His parents were taught how to insert the tube, and the little boy had to wear a corset with Velcro restraints that held his arms out, so he couldn't pull out the tube.

Heidi Metz tears up as she remembers.

Siegel says the center sees parents go through a number of stages — grief, denial, anger.

For some moms, it is questioning whether they had the proper diet during their pregnancy, whether they exercised too little, or too much.

Ultimately, says, Siegel, there is acceptance, and taking joy in "the child and his victories."

A great day

And so on this particular morning, watching through a window into a large room with 14 children and the therapists — a room containing toy basketball hoops, plastic stairs, one of those kids' crawling tubes — Metz sees her son take steps on his own.

Later she hugs and kisses him.

"I'm so proud of you. I got to see you walk for the first time!" she tells Sterling.

It is a great day, too, for Marisa Mannari, 29, who has a master's in occupational therapy from the University of Washington.

She's the one who's been working with Sterling on taking those steps and exudes optimism. Sterling goes to Kindering three to four times a week and gets speech therapy and occupational therapy.

"Especially at this age group," she says, "there is so much potential."

Kindering therapists also have worked with Sterling on feeding himself.

"He doesn't recognize hunger cues," his mother says. "I think that feeding tube caused some oral aversion. But watching other children eat has been one of the biggest things."

And slowly, through speech therapy, the little boy has been learning to express himself.

Metz says his communication is about that of a 1-year-old, able to say "dada" and "baba," and waving "hello."

It will be a long journey.

"I don't know what 'normal' will be. I don't know if he'll need lifetime care. I don't know if he'll ever hold a job," says Metz.

But until Sterling turns 3, there is an oasis called Kindering.

News researcher Miyoko Wolf contributed to this report. Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or elacitis@seattletimes.com