School Setback

I often suffered from sore infections on my fingers or feet. My parents had to go to the doctor mostly with me. Once I had such a bad case of blood poisoning in my foot that the doctor told my father he arrived just in time. If he had come an hour later, it would have been too late to save me! My father carried me on his back many times during that winter, until my foot infection healed and I could walk again.

When I turned six, I looked forward to going to school like everyone else that age. I so desired to master reading and writing, my heart and soul yearning to join the ranks of the knowledgeable. But it was not yet meant to be, I was deprived even this small joy. My mother feared very much for me, her skinny child. She consulted Dr. Kronhauser, who advised her to wait another year until I was seven - maybe then I would be stronger.

So I swallowed my anger and shame as I witnessed my childhood dream being shattered into tiny pieces. So hurt and shocked, I could not even try to argue against it, as my delicate soul was too sensitive to put up a fight. Envious of all the six-year-olds who enrolled to first grade, I felt robbed of my rights, as I had all the necessary skills.

I consoled myself on many occasions by trying to learn on my own, then scribbling on a blank page and asking my parents to verify that I had written letters of the alphabet. They agreed to do so in order to pacify my hurt pride, but my brother Sanyi would not let me fool myself. He told me the cold truth that I was only scribbling. Still, I clung to using pencil and paper as a first step to obtaining knowledge.

© David Muskal, 2001