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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