When I was a little girl I would go over to my grandparent's house and in their play room they had this typewriter. I would sit at the typewritter and my grandma showed me how to put the paper in the opening and turn the dial that would feed it through to the other side. At first, I would hunt and find the letters in my name. I would type and entire page of just my name and I loved every moment of it. When I was in high school, we needed a typewriter for a play and I knew just the place to find one. I took my theatre teacher over to my grandma's and we picked up the typewritter. By then it had stopped working properly and it was no longer used. Grandma told us that we could keep the typewritter and since then it has been used in many different plays at the high school. This year I was in need of a typewritter for my play and I went to the high school and am now borrowing it for my show. It is an excellent prop and when I am done with it I will return it to the high school but a part of me wants to keep it. Hearing the sound of the typewritter takes me back in time to a place that I had forgotten. It reminds me of a time when my family was different. At time when I was young and unaware of what it was like to be grown up in the world.
