The small things

     They never told me why I had never been accepted.  I was born a dwarf, and my early years and been quite humiliating. My name is William.
     I can remember my mother's beautiful smile.  She could light up the darkest of places with her face.  Sadly she passed away when I was about seven years old.  My father, whom I had never gotten along with, sent me to clown school at the age of seventeen.
     My life consisted of traveling across America in a circus, doing stunts like juggling and unicycling.  My life was simple, but strained.  I was just over three feet tall, and our boss made me do the grunt work, like fixing electric sockets, crawling under the bus to repair it.
     In November of 1997 I met someone special.  Felecia, an immigrant from the Czech Republic, had joined our circus crew and was a very welcome sight for me.  She had been a professional dancer in her old country, and was soon to be the star of the show.  We shared acts like juggling and jumping through fire hoops.  She liked America very much, since we had labor laws and the like.
     Every day we talked more and more.  She had the most amazing green eyes and dark hair.  Her skin was quite pale, but it brought out her eyes even more.  We had shared a common childhood, with our mothers dying at young age, and pitiful fathers who didnt want to deal with us.  Our bond was a special one, and I cherished it dearly.
  Every night we conversed about our childhoods, books we remembered, stories about old friends.  I liked to hear about her culture as a child, and she with mine.  I learned new recipes, even learned a little bit of her native language.
  Our son Roland was born on November 27th, 2001.  Aside from Felicia, he was the pride and joy of my life.  He was half dwarf, so he could fit in.  I sent him off to a boarding school,  I did not want him to deal with the circus life.  I had saved money every paycheck, and sent him along with quite a fair amount of money for a college education.  He still writes to me to this day.
  Sadly, my happiness came to an end a few years later.  Felicia had not worn her safety harness on the tight rope, and fell 200 feet and died that night.  I still have nightmares about it.   It was Christmas night in Houston.  I sat inside my trailer for weeks alone, crying and abusing myself.
   They began teasing me again, calling me rude names and making fun of my size.  I left the circus a month later.