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My first kiss... an interesting story, perhaps.

When I was a child, my mother had a severe wanderlust. At least once per year, and frequently even more often than that, we would move to a new place. When I was six years old, we moved to a new town in upstate New York. Winter was in full swing, I recall, and it snowed nearly every day. As I was entering into a new kindergarten class about halfway through the school year, I was afraid that I would not make any friends, and that the other children would pick on me because I was the new kid. However, my first day at the new school no one paid me hardly any attention at all... there was another new kid who had been there for almost a week, and she couldn't even speak English! She was the smallest child in the class, and was incredibly shy. The bullies already had their plates full without even worrying about me.

At first, I was relieved that I was being left alone. But when I saw the other kids teasing that tiny girl, I started to feel empathy for her. I knew what it felt like to be picked on... I was often bullied myself. And this girl was so small, and frightened, she had no chance of standing up to them herself. When one of the boys pushed her down, I couldn't stand it any longer. I charged at them, yelling incoherently, my little fists swinging! I pushed down a few of the kids, and was hitting a couple of the others, until I was pulled off of them by the teacher. However, I had gotten my point across, and from that time on, they left her alone.

After that first day, many of the kids were a little leery of me, and kept their distance. The little girl I had saved, though, began to follow me everywhere! I had a second shadow... she stayed right by me constantly. At first, I didn't really know what she wanted, why she followed me everywhere. I thought she was a little strange, too, because I couldn't understand her when she spoke. However, through her sheer persistence I got used to her, and we soon became great friends. We played together all the time and - being young children - we did not need to be able to speak to each other to be able to communicate with each other and understand one another.

Unfortunately this wonderful time, and our friendship, was forced to an abrupt end when, eight months later, my mother again was bitten by the wander bug. My family moved all the way to Colorado, and I lost my best friend. This loss stunted my subsequent ability to make friends, and for the next several years everywhere we

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