When my Oma first emigrated to this country from Germany after World War II, she had a lot to learn and a lot to adjust to.
At one point, when she had mastered enough English that she was comfortable going out shopping, she noticed that the young woman ahead of her in line was signing a check with her left hand. My grandmother watched with growing compassion, thinking, "I wonder what happened to that girl?" Then, as she watch the young woman pack her groceries into bags, it slowly dawned on my Oma: there was nothing wrong with the young woman's right hand or arm. She was simply naturally left-handed. In Germany at that time, there was no such thing as a naturally left-handed person.
My Oma told me this story years later, as she watched me, her little left-handed granddaughter, sitting at her dining room table and writing a postcard to my parents. She was thinking that the world had really changed. And she was right.