A Box

I first fell in love with good stories when I was a third grader.  At the time I struggled in reading.  I was suppose to be reading chapter books but just couldn’t wade through the text.  In the middle of my third grade school year I tried to read C.S. Lewis’ “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe”.  I just couldn’t do it.  I struggled painfully to get through the first couple chapters. I finally gave up.  That is until the summer blahs got a hold of me.  We lived on a butte in the central part of our state and we had no neighbors.  Besides watching Soap Operas and wandering the wilderness the only thing left to do was read.  My older sister and mother read profusely.  So I began again on “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe”.  It took me all summer, but by the middle of the book I was hooked.  My life had been forever altered.  After that, reading was a breeze.  From that moment on I have loved good stories.

In high school I collected bits of quotes, poems, short stories, children’s books, Reader’s Digest stories, and anything else that inspired my heart.  I stored these away in a box thinking someday I’d use them for something.  But after a bitter disappointment my senior year I burned the whole box.  After all, my older sister was the speaker, storyteller, teacher, writer and comedian.  She was gifted, still is, so why compete?  I needed to move on and find my own talents. 

Even though I gave up on the stories, they never gave up on me.  They were in my soul and a good story still moves me deeply and often spiritually.  I am a part of a book club with about seven other women and our discussions among other things are deep and profound.  I have been amazed at how this book club has been more of a place of spiritual growth to me than any other group for that purpose. 

Now, I have my own children and the stories are pouring out of me.  I don’t care anymore if I’m good or not at telling or writing stories.  My children love them!  All they want is more.  They want more because it gives us intimate time together.  They want more because they want to learn about me and my childhood.  They want more because they can see themselves in my stories and they want more because they learn a lot of powerful things from stories.  Stories have often been a balm for our relationships.  They are weaving themselves throughout our life as a family and I love it! 

This blog is my new box.  It’s the place I’m keeping all of the stories that touch my life.  It is also a place I can share how stories, storytelling, and the making up of stories have worked in my own family’s life.  Finally, I am hoping it is a place others can be inspired and challenged to make their own stories, and share them with others especially their children.  I’m hoping this is a place for you.

Happy Tales!

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