Yesterday, my son sent a picture of his youngest going to his 1st day of school. He’s standing backed up against a wall with a scrunched up face, with a look that says, “You’re kidding right?” Last night I slept in the past with memories of a miserable 3rd grade. As an undiagnosed dyslectic school was tough, and as my parents lost patience my confidence and self-esteem dropped. After graduation my mom and I met with my teacher and they both agreed I needed to repeat the 3rd grade, and as I cried, I thought, “You’re kidding right?” How many times in life do we find ourselves backed up against the wall taking a first step to rejoin life? I’ve grown to treasure first steps, how about you?
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