What would you do if you could fly?" Mrs. V asks as she glances from the bird to me. "Is that on the quiz?" I ask, grinning as I type. "I think we've studied just about everything else." Mrs. V chuckles. "I'd be scared to let go," I type. "Afraid you'd fall?" she asks. "No. Afraid it would feel so good, I'd just fly away.

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. I'm surrounding by thousands of words. Maybe millions...Deep within me, words pile up in huge drifts. Mountains of phrases and sentences and connected ideas. Clever expressions. Jokes. Love songs...I have never spoken one single word. I am almost eleven years old.

But I'll always love you, and I'll always miss you and I'll never forget that It's okay to put dragons in the jungle and tears on a tiger

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.

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

Without the local library in my neighborhood, I don’t think I would have grown up to be a writer or a teacher.