When I was 10 years old, one of my best friends was Mr. Boggs. He called me his "twirly friend." (Because I did a wheely in his driveway) Mr. Boggs taught me how to play checkers and gave me a microscope. Then he got sick and went into the hospital.

Everyday, I made him a car, or a poem or did a drawing, and sent these to the hospital.

Mr. Boggs came home after a month in the hospital and said to me, "You saved my life. No one else called or wrote, and your mailings gave me the courage to live. Thank you."

I think it was then that I decided to devote my life to being creative.