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said. “You saved my grandmother’s chair.”
I floated home that afternoon.
My father looked at the chair through Mrs. Peterson’s window and said, “That was kind of you, but don’t let hobbies interfere with school.”
Hobbies.
That was what my gifts were to him. Diversions. Distractions. Temporary amusements that needed to be corrected before they turned into continue reading …
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