My muscles tensed as I opened the door and pushed my way inside. Here I was, 17 years old, a high school junior about to embark on a journey that would change my life and where I was headed. I introduce myself to the receptionist at Wynbrook Christian Preschool. Her name is Miss Becky. She was a vibrant woman, full of the energy and spunk that I wanted for my possible career choice. After we meet, she leads me down the hall to my classroom of choice. I remember asking myself just days before, "What lies ahead?" I didn't know what would go on. But I was ready to find out.

My heart was in full gallop as my wheelchair brushed against the colorful paper that covered the classes' door. I clutched the handle and turned it. The door swung open, to the chatter of 17 little boys and girls, from ages four to five. Formal introductions are made. My nerves fail my manners, as I try to return the warm smiles of Mrs. Nipper and Mrs. Wetherington.