Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes-each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.

I learned to dream through reading, learned to create dreams through writing, and learned to develop dreamers through teaching. I shall always be a dreamer.

I believe in me. And my family does. And Mrs. V. It's the rest of the world I'm not so sure of.

Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes-each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.

One series of notes, high and delicate, sang of a sweet moonlight kiss gone sour; another line of music rippled with regret over opportunities forever lost.

By the way, there is nothing cute about a pink wheelchair. Pink doesn't change a thing.

Go ahead and cry, Andy. Don't be afraid of those tears. Sometimes they help to wash the soul clean.