Five years ago, I was on track to go to school.
But then I was assigned to another lower-level class for children who were considered not qualified enough to go to school. I was hurt and found it hard to accept that change.
But after awhile, I realized that my teacher was very nice and understanding and that the children were friendly. Even better, the class gave me the opportunity to attend art classes. I love to draw! I have loved it from the very first class I took.
During the first drawing class, the teacher asked us to draw our friends on the floor while listening to the music. This was nothing like the classes I had ever had. I loved the way the teacher taught.
Two years ago, I was sent to my local school, but again fate intervened with a big challenge. Because of my health challenges, my muscles cramped too much and I was sent back to the class at the institution. I could not express how upset I was. I just cried and cried.
Again creating art saved me. My teacher knew I loved drawing, so she created many opportunities to me draw. I attended every drawing class and whenever one class was over, I would start anticipating the next one. I also drew in my spare time.
I gave my paintings to the teachers and classmates to let them know that I love drawing, and that I also love them. Although my hands have become less and less flexible, I am determined to continue to draw.