Growing up in a military family, I moved a lot. I mostly went to 1 with other kids whose parents were also in the military. But when my dad 2from the Marines after twenty years of service, I found myself 3a civilian school with twelve-year-old who shared no similar life experience with me.
I was a stranger in a strange land. Everyone in my class had grown up together, and they had no 4to spare for a newcomer. I wore different clothes, had different thoughts, and spoke with an accent. I 5for the first few weeks of school. I had no friends, no activities, and no 6of a bright future. To deal with it all, I began 7in my diary every day—stories of adventure, of old friends, of feelings that I could not speak. I wrote as if my life depended on it, as if the very next breath I took could not happen 8I wrote down words.
One day, my teacher, Mrs. Bush, came to me and asked why I always sat there writing instead of playing with others. I told her I enjoyed writing and 9writing to playing. She smiled at me and walked away. About three weeks later, Mrs. Bush gave us a writing assignment. I was 10that I could now participate in something I knew I excelled in.
That night I worked and worked on the essay. I wrote with great 11It was my one chance to feel important and 12by the class.
A few days after we handed in our assignments, Mrs. Bush called me up to the 13of the classroom. I stood before thirty pairs of eyes looking at me, and I got 14Was I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?
Then Mrs. Bush told the class how much she 15all the work that went into the essay and everyone had done a great job. But, she said, one student stood 16as an excellent writer, one with imagination, creativity, and word mastery. That student was me!
The class clapped politely and Mrs. Bush handed me my paper, with the following 17on it: "Malinda, you are an excellent writer. You fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. Please keep on writing and share your 18of writing with the world. I am proud of you and glad you are in my class."
Mrs. Bush helped me feel a sense of 19a place of purpose, and a way to survive a transition in life. She helped me gain 20in myself that stayed with me beyond sixth grade.