in her grandmother's apartment, making marks with a crayon on a sheet of shirt cardboard
She seemed to be drawing, or perhaps doodling would be a more
accurate word.
Her grandmother looked down and asked, "What are you doing?"
The child looked up from her work and answered, "I witing a towy."
Yes, even then, even before she could read, even before she could print, even before she knew the alphabet, even before she could pronounce the word, I knew, that she, or rather, that I (for I was that little girl) wanted to write.
