From the time I was three to the time I was five, I attended Cedar Creek Montessori School. It was very beneficial for me, and I learned a lot in the short time I was there. The staff was very nice and accepting too, despite their idiosyncrasies. One person in particular always stood out to me, and his name was David. He was the storyteller, the one who kept everyone entertained at naptime. Every day since, well, probably the very first day of school, he told stories about a girl named Anastasia and her cat, Sparky, who went on lots of grand adventures together. It was David who gave me my love for stories, books, adventure, and cats. He will always be embedded in my memory.
The year after I left Cedar Creek, I joined Thousand Oaks Elementary, and more specifically, Teacher Libby’s class. She was nice, but I found all the books in her class dull and pointless. So I borrowed my brother’s books, he three years my elder, and brought them to school with me. I remember one day I was so engrossed in a Percy Jackson book that I didn’t notice everyone had already gone to the rug five minutes ago. I had a wild imagination and
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There, I had even less friends than at school, so I sat by myself on the bus ride from school to the JCC. One day, I was bored and trying to come up with something to do, when I had the bright idea of telling a story. I gathered the minimal audience of one kindergarten girl my age, and the story began. Even though I could have easily come up with characters of my own, I used David’s instead. Good old Anastasia and Sparky. Before long, I had gathered a small crowd, which consisted of mostly kids who were several years older than me. Later that day, a counselor told my dad that I had been the biggest attraction that afternoon with my wild tales of adventure and peril. I was very pleased with myself and grinned with pride while my dad took it all in, not surprised in the least, of