When I was very young, my family had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the wooden case fixed to the wall near the stairs. The receiver hung on the side of the box. I used to listen with fascination when my mother talked into it.
Then I found out that an amazing person lived somewhere inside that wonderful device. Her name was “Information Please,” and there was nothing she did not know. When my mother asked for the time or for a phone number, Information Please immediately answered.
My first experience with this magic person came one day while my mother was out. I hit my finger with a hammer while I was playing. The pain was terrible, but I didn’t cry because there was no one at home to feel sorry for me. I walked around with my sore finger and finally arrived at the stairs. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for a chair and dragged it to the telephone. I climbed up and picked up the receiver. “Information Please,” I said.
