Scripture 1

One day I was born. I don't remember it. Maybe it was a blur of colour after the refuge of the womb. The first memory other than vague impressions of a swinging animal above my cot is sitting in the pram trying to speak to my mother and her friend and not being understandable. I was very upset about it. I really had to practice moving my mouth to make words. The next memories are being held, being picked up and whirled around by my uncle, starting a teddy bear collection and teddy bear tea parties with teeny weeny tea sets pouring out water into tiny cups.