In Nancy's house, although her parents were poor, they worked to provide for their daughters' needs. Nancy is the second of four school-aged sisters, and like all girls, she has her cravings. But at home, Nancy's parents set a rule: whatever is bought for one must be bought for all four. If someone craves a doll, it cannot be an expensive doll because there isn't enough money to buy four dolls; that’s why it's better to crave ice cream or other more economical things.

For Nancy, it was normal to inherit from her older sister the clothes, shoes, toys, and even the books. As her older sister grew up or moved up a grade, they would give her everything that her sister had used and no longer needed. Then Nancy would pass those things to the next sister, and when they no longer fit her, that sister would pass them to the other.

The first time Nancy saw a machine just like me, one of her classmates from the semester was carrying it. She told her parents, but they argued the same old thing: # _There are more important things to buy, and if we buy you a typewriter, we must also buy your sisters what they need. Those words didn't stop Nancy from dreaming of having me, even though she knew it was difficult: her parents didn't have the resources.

But in the 5th semester, the Philosophy professor refused to accept handwritten assignments, so Nancy paid for the rental of typewriters or paid her classmates to type her work. One day, Nancy did her research, but could not find anyone to transcribe it, so pleading that her Philosophy professor would understand, she handed it in as is and the professor, upon seeing that it was handwritten, without reviewing it, gave it a big Zero and immediately returned it to her.

That day, when her parents returned from work, they found Nancy crying and that she hadn't eaten all day, and although they tried to calm her down by telling her it was just a note, she told them that studying without the necessary tools was like going to war without weapons: she couldn't survive or it would be very difficult to progress. Her parents looked at each other with pity and sadness: they had only been able to study in elementary school. Poverty had defeated them.

The next day, despite having swollen eyes, Nancy went to university very early and without her knowing, her parents took me to her house. They placed me on her bed to wait for her; they didn’t wrap me up or put on ribbons, they just left me inside my box. Since I had come out of the factory, I was certain that I was just an object, but that time when Nancy hugged me and started crying when she saw me, I realized that I was not only a dream come true, but that I would accompany Nancy for a long while.

Of course, later on, over time, more sophisticated objects came to do my job, but Nancy never threw me away or gave me away even though I was already old. She placed me among her books and even though people say I'm just junk, I stand there like a trophy. She says I remind her of how far she has come, but I believe I remind her of how little she had. Because although her professors at the university demanded typewritten or computer-typed assignments, Nancy allows her students to submit handwritten work because she knows that in wars, one defends oneself as best as one can.