So I found this on my laptop as I was browsing around. I wrote it for Ashley for one of her presentations about kids with disabilities. It made me smile.

Andie woke up to the sound of her alarm buzzing on the nightstand. She fumbled sleepily around, trying to find the ‘sleep’ button. Finally her fingers made contact with the over-sized, bumpy button, and she rolled over to face the wall. Nine minutes later her alarm began buzzing again, and this time she sat up, fumbled around for the button again, hit it again, and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She didn’t even bother turning on the light, but moved slowly over to the chair in the corner of her room, where she always laid out her clothes for the next day before she went to sleep.

She felt gingerly around on the chair, found her shirt draped over the back, and pulled it on. Next, her pants, and then her socks and shoes. She went around a small corner into her bathroom. No light here either. Just then, her mom came into her room and flipped on the light. She kissed Andie on the cheek and began to brush her hair. They chatted for a few minutes about the upcoming day. Andie told her mom that they were going to get to read any book of their choice that day in quiet time, and that she was excited to take her special book to school to read. Her mom kissed her again, put the book into her backpack, and ushered her downstairs and into the car. Her mother always drove her to school; it was just easier that way.

They pulled up to the curb and Mrs. Staverson was right there, waiting as the van door opened to grab Andie’s hand and escort her into the building. Andie really liked Mrs. Staverson. She let her do a lot of fun things, things her mom wouldn’t let her do, like get dirty or draw on herself with markers. She also sometimes would braid Andie’s hair during lunchtime. But most of all, Andie liked Mrs. Staverson because she was the one teaching Andie how to read. She was patient and kind, and got mad when the other kids made fun of her for being slow.

Not all the kids were mean, though. Nick, a boy in her class, sat next to her and would tell her what the teacher was writing on the board so she could copy it down into her special notebook. Like when they would practice writing and spelling. She was allowed to stay in class for that part, but had to go to the special class (Mrs. Staverton’s) when it was time to practice reading. But again, she didn’t mind. Sometimes Mrs. Staverton would sneak her cookies from the lunchroom.

Today, she and Mrs. Staverton were going to work out of her brand new book, and Andie was excited. She was distracted and fidgety in her morning subjects, and rushed through her lunch. After lunch meant Mrs. Staverton, so she was going to get there as fast as possible. She scarfed her soup and crackers, and made her way slowly toward the special class room, running her hands along the smooth wall. Technically, she was supposed to wait for someone to come get her, but she was too excited today to wait.

When she got to the room, she opened the door and plunged inside. Mrs. Staverton was surprised but said it was okay, so they sat down at a table and got started a little bit early. Andie eagerly pulled her new book out of her backpack, and laid it on the table. A book about horses. Andie loved imagining what horses really looked like, and loved reading books that described them to her. Mrs. Staverton opened the book to the first page, and asked Andie to start reading. As she slid her hand over the cool paper, she began to get flustered. This book was a little bit harder to read than she’d thought. She kept stumbling over her words, and read haltingly at best.

Andie was getting frustrated. She was trying not to cry. It seemed like Mrs. Staverton had to help her with every other word. Two boys sitting at a table to the right started snickering. Andie stopped reading altogether, drew her hands into her lap, and felt the tears in the corners of her eyes.

Mrs. Staverton placed her hand on Andie’s shoulder, turned around, and said sternly, “Boys! That will be quite enough for the day. Go back to the lunchroom now please,” and turning back to Andie, said quietly, “Andie, don’t pay attention to them. You’re not dumb and you’re not stupid. You’re blind. You have to read Braille. It doesn’t make you better or worse than anyone else, just different. People don’t understand different, and they’re afraid of what they don’t understand. So they’re afraid of you. They make fun of you to make themselves feel better about being different. That’s not your fault. You’ll learn to read, just like everyone else, if you put your mind to it and try hard.”

And from that moment, Andie never let it bother her when people laughed at her. She knew they just didn’t understand her. She also tried harder to understand everyone else. She did her best to include everyone and to make a lot of friends.

Oh, and Andie also became one of the best readers in her class.