The huffing and puffing of the early October winds rattled the tall windows in my first grade classroom. Clouds raced across the sky turning the room light then dark, light then dark. I sat in the row next to those windows, safe and sound. The radiator clicked; the wood surrounded us from desk to floor to ceiling, tucking us in. Mrs. Eastburn led us through our art project…an alphabet book complete with hand-drawn/crayon-colored pictures. I was so proud to pick an apple for my letter A. I actually knew that the A started the word. Wow.
Then, it happened. As I copied the sentence my teacher constructed for me, the words became whole. The squiggles settled into letters…then something more. They sang the song of the written word. I read them.
Aptly, I will always appreciate the amazing apple. And, the letter A.