Readin' and writin'

When I was a student at Highland Elementary school in Aliquippa, one of my teachers was Ms Crawford, a tall, vivacious red-head. She taught us how to open new school books---hold the book with its spine on the desk and gradually strip the covers and pages away on each side till the pages and covers lie flat on the desk. And she said, "Light should come from the left on the book you are reading or on the paper where you are writing."

We did not question her wisdom; we were so excited to learn to read and write that we did as we were told.

About four years ago, I wrote a short story about my time at Highland and the business of making sure which side the light came from. Evy and I made a trip to Rosston, where the family lived when she was born and to Aliquippa where we had rounded out our elementary education. By then, of course, Highland was only a weed-filled lot. Still, the question about the importance of having light come from the left remained.

This morning, eighty four years after Ms Crawford and Highland, I got my answer. After breakfast, I began the crossword puzzle in the morning paper; light came from the window at my right. As I wrote (right-handed), there was an annoying shadow on the paper. I asked Lucy to turn the ceiling light on. The light went on in my head,too: WHEN THE LIGHT COMES FROM THE RIGHT, THERE IS A SHADOW ON THE PAPER MADE BY MY HAND AND PENCIL. That shadow makes it hard for me to see what I'm writing. So simple.

More new questions: why did it take me eighty four years to figure that out? And did the explanation for writing hold true for reading as Ms Crawford taught us? And what would left-handed children do?