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How I Came to Know Myself

Author's note: I hope this story can warm people's hearts as they read this story.
Author's note: I hope this story can warm people's hearts as they read this story.  « Hide author's note
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 5 Next »

Chapter 1: The Early Years

It all began one morning on February 26, 2001. I came to the world crying and screaming. I was 7 lb. and 6.8 oz. I was 20 and 1/4 inches long. I was born with clubfoot, a condition where my feet were turned in by 90 degrees. Only 1 in 1000 kids have been born with it. Some of names that were considered if I were a girl are: Emma, Claire, Meghan, or Kaitlin (Katie for short). I was told back then that I was a very happy baby, and I only cried if I was hungry or I hurt myself. Not that I remember that.
To be honest, life wasn't too eventful for me. I went to preschool at the “CDC” (Child Development Center) that was on the Bethel University campus from when I was 4-5 years old. I was immediately in the bunny group, which was the oldest age group. Every morning my dad and I would eat breakfast in the cafeteria before he would drop me off. He then would go to class. He was in nursing school at the time. One of the clearest memories I have of preschool happened when I was about 4 1/2. I was able to read at the time, so when I had extra time, I would walk by my bin, and and look up at the schedule on the wall. One time I got caught.
“What’re you doing?”
“Looking to see what’s next”.
She smiled, shook her head, and walked away.
Another memorable moment was in my older times at the CDC. I was outside sitting in the grass on the playground when I saw something I had never seen before: an inchworm. I immediately put it on my hand. I called my friend Rosie over. Unlike myself, she was as tall as the other preschoolers. She was about 5 inches shorter than me, which means that I was basically the tallest kid in the building. We grabbed a bucket. We figured that what an inchworm needed to survive was grass, dirt, leaves, and for good measure, a stick for it to climb on. We then sat on one of the few benches outside. People started getting curious like most preschoolers do. We showed the inchworm to the kids who wanted to see it. I felt like I was famous (then again, I was only 4). We then had to go inside. The inchworm inched out of the bucket, unnoticed.
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