- an obsessive fear of words
It took some time for the professionals to convince Henry and Janie Therwald that their daughter wasn’t a mute. In fact it was quite the opposite.
Although Mindy sat in silence, played in silence, and ate in silence every single day, the tests were proving that she was in the top percentile for hearing, sight, comprehension and her studies.
It wasn’t until one particular spring day, at a very regular dinner that things changed. Once again, Janie and Henry were discussing studies they’d read of children in Eastern Europe having logophobia, referencing Mindy as if she was not present.
Mindy sighed deeply, wiped her small mouth with her napkin and delicately set it beside her plate.
“Mother, Father,” she looked at them steadily as their eyes widened in shock. “I’ve read these same studies after seeing them on your desk.”
The sound of Janie’s glass crashing against the tile floor echoed in their small kitchen.
“I assure you, I can speak, but I have nothing of substance to say, therefore I often refrain from talking because I’d prefer to listen. I’m not afraid of words.”
Janie and Henry were silent, completely stunned, more by the sounds coming out of their daughter’s mouth than her vocabulary.
Mindy sighed again and left to go read in her room.