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Life Without A Left Hand I was born like everyone else. I was healthy as anything
and was like any other baby except for one thing that would
follow me for the rest of my life. I was missing my left hand. I
guess to me it was fine, but to those around me it wasn't quite
the same. My father cried and the doctors wanted to put my toes on my
hand. Fortunately, they didn't. Instead, I went to Shriners
Hospital for Crippled Children. They gave me my first prosthetic
hand. Before they could do so, they had to amputate my fingers;
they were the size of peas. I was only 1 1/2 so I had no choice
in the matter, so, I got an artificial arm. Unfortunately for me, I was the first "handicap"
person to go through the public school system. Because of this
the school system set up a "Handicap Awareness" program
for all the second graders. They would have my come in and tell
them about me and my hand and how I felt about it. My mom talked
at first because I was only 2, but then I did it for myself. The administration had the right idea, sort of. They only
wanted to teach tolerance to people, which is good, but it kind
of made me feel like a sideshow freak. But I'm not. I know it's
cliched, but I can do everything that anyone else can do. I can
tie my shoes (which, for some reason, people find amazing!)
I draw, do jewelry, and yes...I do archery, with my teeth! Having one hand does have its advantages though.
Because of it, I was queen of a football game. Basically, the
point I want to get across is to tolerate differences. People
shouldn't need to be told to accept others; it should come
naturally. So, if you see me, say "Hi", I'm friendly. **by Frooty from Massachusetts
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