That day, I was wandering in figure eights around a sandy lawn in North Carolina. In that yard, between the coiled hose and the crab apple tree, I had a revelation.
Slowly, I spoke aloud. “Once upon a time, there was a girl who had an evil stepmother…”
In that moment, I realized I was doing something magical— I was telling a story! It was the first time I had ever tried to do that without stuffed animals for assistance. My world blew open.
My grandmother, watching me wander and mumble to myself, asked Dad if I had “special needs.”