En el episodio de hoy les agradecemos haber votado por nuestro podcast que es finalista en la categoria de educacion en los IX premios de la Asociacion podcast http://premios.asociacionpodcast.es/listado-finalistas-ix-edicion/
Contamos la Historia de Sally
Sally's Story
From a very early age I knew my mother had Special Powers. She
knew things I could never know, and I simply could not understand how or why. Later I was to discover I had secrets of my own, of a different kind, but
I didn't realise that then.
My first years were extremely happy. The world was a garden of delights for my eager, exploring senses. Nature seemed so wonderful. The smell of the
flowers and the buzzing of the bees and insects scuttling through the slippery, damp grass. Birdsong was an unashamed symphony cascading ripples of delight
throughout my young, receptive being. I used to love to lie down in front of the fire with our dog, my little head on his big panting body and I would
tense and thrill when he awoke and instantly morphed into this massive fleshly engine of energy and power. I loved the smell and sound of the sea when
we were away on holiday, and cherished the salty breeze on my face.
My little brother Liam was born two years after me so I was three before he even became remotely fun. But when he did he elected himself my Big Brother
and was always there looking after me. When we played Hide and Seek I would always find him in the same place curled up in a ball behind the curtain and
each time his palpitating body would squeal noisily with excitement. When it was my turn he would yell stupid things like 'I see you' and moments later
I would feel his tiny hand reach behind the sofa to touch the top of my head.
Mother was never far away from me in those first, magical days but Liam clung even closer. I felt I had not one but two guardian angels and at night-time
he would say ridiculous, meaningless things like 'See you in the morning. Sleep tight.'
He was very silly but I loved to feel his trembling body close to mine especially when he was giggling, which he frequently was. His entire little
body would vibrate like a shaking machine from top to bottom.
'I'll never leave you, Sally,' he would say. 'I'll always be there for you, to protect you.' He was extremely small but nevertheless his words brought
a special warmth and comfort. 'You look so pretty in your new blue dress,' was another daft thing he would say. Sometimes I thought he might be a little
weird in the head, but he was my little brother so I knew I would always love him no matter what.
Our contented wonderland continued blissfully together until I was about six years old, about a year after I had started at school. Daddy was mostly
at work but every weekday Mummy used to take me by the hand to class and she and Liam were always there to meet me when it finished. My teachers were wonderful
and patient, although I felt they were more than a little mysterious. Like Liam, they used to say very strange things which often left me quite confused.
Sometimes they'd yell 'Watch Out!' when I was playing on the classroom floor with the bean bags. 'You're going to bump into something.' And sure enough,
I did, so I soon learned to 'Watch out!' More than once there was a mention of it being a Special School. Why was it special, in what way?
It was about then that the bombshell hit that would dispel the magic of our existence in an instance.
I was sitting in the front room just before it was time to go to school and - I
am ashamed to recall - idly picking my nose (just a little bit). Suddenly I felt my
mother's gentle hand give me what can only be described as a small smack on the
arm....
