I remember the world as I began to understand it when I was a young child, a world where I felt safe, a world where I was safe. In my world I could understand and imagine many things, but I could also wonder about and question many more. The first question I can recall asking my mother concerned automobile windscreen wipers. It was a rainy spring day and I was watching from our second-storey apartment window the traffic buzzing through the busy city streets. Fresh-smelling rain filtered in through the screened window, and I could feel the occasional drop of water passing its screen test to become mist upon my face. I asked my mother why was it that some cars’ windscreen wipers went back and forth in the same direction together, while the wiper blades on other cars went opposite each other. I phrased the question differently, I’ve forgotten the exact wording, but I do remember using my hands to show the direction of the windscreen wipers so that my mother could better understand my question. Though I don’t remember my mother’s response to my question I do remember her sweet laughter, and that I felt safe, protected and secure.