This will no doubt astound you, but back when I was in junior high school, my unique talents were suddenly discovered and I achieved almost rock star status, albeit on a very small stage. Yes, I peaked out early, experiencing the maximum of glory for my life in seventh grade during a typing class of all places.
It started out without a lot of fanfare, just a simple typing course in which there were 30 or so kids learning to type on manual typewriters. The teacher put up a bar graph chart detailing the words per minute per student so we could keep track of our progress. After all those years of being an absolute failure at gym and sports, I suddenly realized that I had found my true calling: typing!
While the other kids struggled along trying to get up to 20 wpm, I moved steadily upward until I was soaring along at 60-65 wpm. Don’t scoff at that until you try typing on a manual non-electric typewriter, folks. The kids used to gather around in a rather awestruck circle and watch me type – I’m totally serious about that. The teacher would beam proudly as if she had created the very fingers on my hand and endowed them with speed and accuracy.
It was a very small amount of glory, but it was all mine and in a world in which I felt insignificant, unattractive and unpopular, this was an ego boost well past due.
Please permit a paraphrase of King David from Psalm 144:
Blessed be the LORD my Rock,
Who trains my hands for a typewriter,
And my fingers for typing—
This has been Tuesday True Stories with Lynniebeemuseoday.
I’ll probably delete this in the morning with fingers trained on a QWERTY board.
Lynniebeemuseoday 