One of the most unforgettable people I met during this chapter of life was my teacher, Miss Holly Kirkpatrick.
She only had one arm, but I knew better than to ask why.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbv7WDd44Qb
Something deep down told me—that’s not polite. That’s her story to tell.
Eventually, another student did ask.
And Miss Kirkpatrick, calm as ever, told us:
“I lost it in a car accident when we escaped Bolivia.”
That answer stuck with me.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMzzzagqThv
So did her kindness.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr01NxbLOyq
She even invited me over to help with schoolwork. She didn’t have to—but she wanted to. That meant something.
Later, she got one of the first generation robotic arms.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡchbVLsprsp
It was the kind where you had to push a button in the palm to make it grip things.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCKJeXCOmrV
It matched her skin tone perfectly—sleek, futuristic, and functional.
To a kid like me, it was part miracle, part machine… and all courage.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgMNiQilvnf
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I stayed at Pettit Park and in Miss Kirkpatrick’s class until third grade.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ317Xty1O83
That year, I had to repeat the grade.
It wasn’t easy to hear, but I was determined.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Us4qHoIdu
And even though Miss Kirkpatrick wasn’t my classroom teacher anymore, she was still my tutor.
Some Saturdays, we’d have long study sessions.
Sometimes we’d head out to Dairy Queen—just the two of us, sharing a bite and talking about life.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcjAReRQOkM
Other times, she’d make Manwich—sloppy joes from the can, but they tasted like a five-star meal when you were in good company.
Afterward, I’d hit the books again, working on my lessons.
Those weren’t just study sessions.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡofm6jWgSRh
They were lifelines.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVuTuPQE8qH
Moments of care, patience, and encouragement from someone who never gave up on me.
Looking back, I can see how God used people like Miss Kirkpatrick to carry me forward when I felt like I was falling behind.
And that’s how Chapter 4 closes—not with a dramatic twist, but with grace on a paper plate and kindness in every lesson.
The reason I had to retake third grade wasn’t really my fault.
We moved halfway through the school year, so I had to repeat it.
My new special ed teacher was Miss Carter — a good lady who tried to help.
But the art teacher, Miss Shannon? She did not like me.
She thought I was totally blind and didn’t want to deal with me.
Grandma wasn’t having any of that.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdLqmyoU2UH
She told Miss Shannon straight up,
“You don’t keep my kid away from his fellow students.”
So I stayed at Carol Elementary through sixth grade.
So that’s how I ended up at Carol Elementary, where I stayed through the end of sixth grade.
Fourth grade was with Miss Lytle—a sweet, motherly kind of teacher.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5zBl7ZS2n1
She was the kind who made you feel safe, even when a girl named Lyndsey kicked me in the shin.
Miss Lytle wasn’t having any of that.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAwUZau2IaP
She told Lyndsey,
“If you’re caught kicking, we have a kicking contest—and I get to do the kicking.”
Let’s just say, Lyndsey didn’t try that again.
Fifth grade was Mr. Kratz.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeWPrq77SVD
He was a legend—not just a teacher, but the guy who made the large-print math software I used back in fourth grade.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMqXMN9xA00
Every time the program started, it flashed “KratzGraphics” before the math app kicked in.
Sixth grade brought Mr. Winningham—a cool dude, but not quite as cool as Mr. Kratz.
Because Mr. Kratz?105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD2Jcj18dOM
He read Narnia to us for an hour after lunch.
And honestly, that was some of the best time I had at school.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9IlkYejpVP
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Then came the dark times.
My grandparents didn’t want me going to CCMHS or Carol County Middle and High School, so they sent me to Delphi Community Middle School instead.
Middle school there was maximum suckage.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSbyxpLsLoo
Students hated me.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡctAU3wfxHJ
Teachers hated me.
On the very last day of the school year, I got detention—and I skipped it.
The next year?
I begged and pleaded with Grandma and Grandpa to let me go back to the Indiana School for the Blind for seventh grade.
I just wanted out of that nightmare.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJIMs7Qi1vb
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Why was middle school at Delphi Community Maximum Suckage?
Because Mr. Wilson—the history teacher—accused me of cheating.
He even told my grandparents,
“That kid belongs in a deaf and dumb school.”
My grandpa fired right back,
“He’s not deaf and dumb, he’s blind.105Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU760TLY9GK
And if you had any common sense, you’d know better.”
But the torment didn’t stop there.
Some students even spit chocolate milk down the collar of my brand-new shirt, ruining it.
That was Delphi Community Middle School.
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and then Add to home screen.