In Focus

Ayn Rand said, "Words are a lens to focus one's mind."
I realized something this morning. When one struggles with writing as a noun, one should turn it on it's head and think of writing as a verb, and just write.

When my father in law passed, two and a half months ago, I feel I officially joined the empty nesters club. I felt myself being prepared for the start of losing parents a couple years ago, but in truth, you're never really prepared. Not for hip bone loss. I've lost a number of family members from that next generation. The number of living aunts and uncles, I knew in girlhood, are now far less, and it feels strange.

I'm trying to figure out this new stage of life. While I thought loss would be just another transformation, a change to adjust to, I never knew how loss could make one disjointed, confused, and even lost feeling. No matter how much faith you have or how strong you think you are, loss is hard.  Because it's so hard, my physician gave me added medication to my Midlife Welcome gift pack. I now laugh when I think back remembering telling my husband, "I don't mind the idea of growing old one day. When I do, I'll do so naturally and gracefully." I'd always been a Donna Reed fan. Everything is beautiful, organized, naturally lovely, right? In home and family, I fast learned the Donna Reed image was unreachable fiction. So how about aging? The romantics of two people growing old together has to be real, right?  Secretly, I wondered how and when the transformation occurred, while I admired and looked up to my seasoned lady friends. My grandmother donned white locks. I'm now a grandmother so how and when does hair go white; at 70? 80? Scientifically, I found the question fascinating.

New medications tainted my equilibrium, they also left me nearly sedated, and though it brought me to caring about very little, I cared that I couldn't think and barely functioned. The medication was shelved by my doctor. Loss still tampered with my blood pressure and we worked to balance out new meds, while doing a study to learn if the change in my health is stress related (so many deaths and life change at once, and that being too much) or life-stress related, where these kinds of stresses don't change because it's mid-life happenings and this is now the new normal. Medication balanced, and BP back in the 120's with "complete rest and withdraw from activity" I had my brain back. At one point during my nighttime routine, I glanced up into my reflection and saw white.

Dad Ries once told me, "Aging is not for the faint of heart."
People don't age gracefully. I'm convinced that in having a small taste of how people age, they must dig in their heels and raise their mitts like me. No one welcomes the kind of loss that breaks you. No one welcomes meds that slow your ability and thinking. No one welcomes the frustration of feeling twenty inside, but being told you can't work out and have to slow down to take care of your vital organs. No one had ever said that to me before and I hated it. Add "low salt diet" to those words and in a matter of days you feel you've aged twenty years. Again, I hated it. But there you are: mid-life empty nester like so many before you.
You try to figure out what that means and what this new normal will be like, and how you'll break free of the shackling you feel. You know something is different and don't know what is happening to you, or know how it happened to you, or when that change occurred, but you feel it in your bones and you just want it to go away and have your energy and vigor returned. And as soon as the doctor says go, you move, and you get active because you don't ever want your doctor to tell you that you have to stop moving again. And last, you ask yourself what personal progress means for you now, and ponder what is next, grateful for it all.

Marie Curie once said, "I was taught the way of progress is neither swift nor easy."
Aging is not for the faint of heart because of the fight; a fight for youth, for health, and for fullness of life.

When I was told by my doctor that I couldn't work out, I was told I could punch a punching bag.
Though I'm just returning to my weights, That punching bag continues to feel good.

A woman I sincerely admire is Eleanor Roosevelt. "A woman is like a tea bag----you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water."
That about sums it up. Life isn't all easy street. Were that so, we'd have no purpose in being here. We're given trials, that we might overcome. Strength is the outcome, much like muscles broken down in a challenging workout to ultimately grow. We have power in prayer, in scripture, and in faith. But sometimes trial means you have to be personally strong, too.
When the physical war is on, women know how to fight.
The white is hidden beneath bold blonde.

To Teach His Own

It is 11:40 pm here in Madison Wisconsin, and I cannot sleep. My mind keeps racing back to earlier today to the creamery we patroned. Not to the little scene of delicious flavors seen in cups and on cones, not in the big smiles as two little Girls carried their Ice cream across the parlor. Not even in the tasting going on back and forth between girls and Mom and this grandma. But something else caught my attention. Something magnificent.

A small table behind us offered an interesting scene. That being a distinguished looking older man, confident and professional. His demeanor made me guess he was a professor at the University of Wisconsin where we sat eating icream at the agriculture program's creamery.  Across from him sat a very young woman. As they spoke, I couldnt help but hear. He talked about her potential and opportunities for her in "leadership."

They shared a few minutes of ice cream and he was obviously mentoring her, and she was receptive. The scene made me smile.

Somehow God places people in our path to help us to become who he knows we can become.

A warmth fills my heart as I remember such people who were instrumental in bringing me to where I am in my life's blessings and achievements.  I wonder where I'd be if Sally Olsen hadn't been my Beehive teacher. If I didn't every week see her white laced tablecloth with a picture of the temple on it. If I didn't see each week her husband come in and so thoughtfully help her to put her lesson displays away, and witness his adoration for her. Sister Olsen told me blessings are Gods promises fulfilled and that I could have the same happiness she had, and I felt her testimony of God's love for me. I believed her.

I wonder where I'd be if good teachers hadn't been in my path. Being a teenager can be hard sometimes. In fact, Somedays it stinks. My Theatre coach Ted Clearman who knew something wasn't quite right, could catch my low days and would say things like, if he were to have a daughter, he'd like her to be just like me.  My English teacher, Joe Anderson, who told me I had talent, and if I worked hard enough I could be a great writer, and who opened his home to me allowing me to babysit his children.  My drafting teacher, H. Lee Holmes, also my bishop-- who when my mother fell seriously ill, did welcome into his home for several months as a daughter. Influence unrestrained.

Kent Brown was perhaps my hardest teacher, my publisher and career guide. He saw me doing things I'd never conceived. Writing multiple books for print, leading and teaching writer workshops, speaking to large audiences, promoting myself and my works through media, school appearances, and signings-cracking the shell I was holed up in, he led me into the spotlight. It was hard as I was shy. He even appointed me as a trustee on the board of Highlights Foundation, which I so love, and served for years. I'm not shy anymore.

My husband. My wonderful husband is my greatest and will be my greatest mentor. Knowing me my strengths my weaknesses and loving me Deeply despite my shortcomings. Believing in me and always teaching me new and interesting ways to make me whole and my life so very full of goodness.
The influence of mentoring/ teaching is life changing.

It's interesting to look back at all the people who have or are now mentoring you. You can see traces of them in the seams that make up your life. My dear friend Mel, taught me how to be a good mother in my young mothering years. She taught me about eye level, and voice tone, and how to act vs react. I've no doubt God placed her in my life as well.

To teach his own, he's given us each other; in experience, wisdom, and inspirational epiphanies. I think of that sweet vision I caught earlier today and feel just a sweet fullness of gratitude for all who have sat across the table (metaphorically speaking) from me.

I pray I live up to your teachings, thank you for them, and hope to use them for good--without disappointing. 

The sweet thing about being given to, is that we then get to give to others what has been given. Giving back is the best when the table turns.

Doctors and Doctrine

"Do you drink?"

"No." I knew the next question so I just told her. "I don't drink or smoke."

(She's been my doctor for over 15 years.)

"Is this a religious thing?"

(… And here I thought this clever, fix everything, super-power pro knew all there was to know about me.)

"Yes. I'm a Mormon, we have this doctrine called the Word of Wisdom. It tells us smoking and drinking are not good for the body."

"Well, not smoking or drinking is wise. For a 50 yr old, you look 25!"

Interesting compliment and -Day made.

More interesting was her next question…

"I didn't know you were a Mormon. Isn't that the group that has 4 or 5 wives?"

"Nooooooooooo," and I think I said that with humor.  

For the record, Multiple wives--or polygamy--does not exist in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The shows on television are not at all affiliated with any of the teachings of the LDS Church. I have one husband.

My doctor was very happy for me.

But as we talked, and as I thought about it, I realized there had been so many strange questions, which I thought I might address in case these questions really do go unanswered.

My favorite (since high school) has been the question, "Are Mormons allowed to dance?" (Thanks, Footloose.)  :)

Many know the film was made in Lehi, Utah, but it is all fiction.  You can Find LDS Teens at every stake center dancing away to pop songs with their peers. Mormons of all ages take dance lessons and some become professional dancers. Remember Benji Schwimmer from "So You Think You can Dance?" The church hosts adult dances as well, as with a Valentine's sweetheart dance each February. Mormons definitely dance.

Can Mormons drink Coke Products? This has been a question of many. There is no reason why Mormons cannot have Coke/ Pepsi products. In fact, church leaders came right out to make that clear. Where caffeine is concerned, everything in moderation. Everyone knows caffeine is addictive.

Can Mormons play with cards, Face cards? I'm not sure where that came from. But it is a question I have been asked. Perhaps some liken face cards to gambling. Regular card games are simple family games, just as board games. I've played Slap Jack, Crazy Eights, War, 21, Hand and Foot, Gin Rummy, 52 Pick up, and others.  I believe the issue is with where something can become an addictive behavior and place one at risk or one's funds at risk. (* 52 Pick up is only addicting to 7 yr olds, and only if they get to toss the cards.)

What's with Sunday? Sunday is different. My children never had trouble sharing that with their friends. For us we go to church and spend the day as a family. Practicing Mormons keep the commandment "Keep the Sabbath Day Holy."  I once asked a bishop what that meant, as a young newlywed and adopted his definition. As far as activities go, each family keeps the Sabbath differently, but for him it was not doing anything he couldn't do in his church clothes. Sunday is a day of rest, reserved for the family, as the Lord rested on the seventh day.

Do Mormon's celebrate Christmas? Mormons are Christian. Jesus is our Savior and we do celebrate his birthday and all the beauty that comes with that glorious season. Christmas trees, gift exchanges and brotherly service are all part of the Christmas spirit. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir has many beautiful Christmas recordings.

Why do Mormon's store food? One of the teachings of the church is called Provident Living, or self reliance. We're taught to live within our own means, avoid unnecessary debt, and to have a storage of food should we need it, as with situations where income is compromised. Many of us have had to use that resource as today's job market has become less stable. Sickness, layoffs, and the unpredictable can have adverse effect on the unprepared.

Why can't just anyone go into the temple? The temple is the most sacred place on earth to a Latter-day Saint (or Mormon.) Only a Mormon who is living set standards may receive a temple recommend. However, many temple's now have Visitor Centers where anyone can go inside to learn more about the temple and what Mormon's believe. The beautiful grounds are open for all to enjoy. Our local Portland Temple just opened a Visitor's Center last year on the grounds.

Is the Book of Mormon the Mormon Bible? The Book of Mormon is not a Mormon Bible, but a second testament of Jesus Christ. Mormons have a set of Scripture. The Old Testament, The New Testament, The Book of Mormon (a record of a group of people that left Jerusalem and came to the Americas) The Doctrine and Covenants (Revelations given to the Prophet Joseph Smith when he was prophet--you can read about the organization of the church here in detail) The Pearl of Great Price (another scripture which lets us have an eternal perspective and learn life is not just this minute fraction of time spent on earth--but how we existed before this world, and how we'll exist after.

Mormons believe in the church as it existed in Christ's day with a church President (Prophet) and 12 apostles and that revelation continues. We don't believe God would leave this generation alone without His voice. In the scriptures God talked to the people of the Old and New Testament, and we believe he does so in our dispensation.

Is it true the Mormon Church does not have a paid clergy? Yes, it's true that the members of the church volunteer their time and talents. They lead, teach, organize, and give. We receive what is called, Callings, which is an area in which to serve, which can be leadership positions as with a bishopric, or financial clerk, and teaching adults, youth, or children (including morning seminary or scouting, primary, or nursery children.) There are many, many callings and many organizations. All callings are important working together to create a magnificently working ward organization.

Why do Mormons research ancestry? The Mormon church probably has one of the largest genealogical centers in the world. Families are forever and genealogy links family past, present and posterity. It's a beautiful thing to know where we came from and what our ancestors stories are. Many Stake centers have Family History Centers, which are open to the public. Family is central to God's plan for man, and is important to many faiths, including the LDS faith.

At what age is baptism? For the Mormon Faith, a child may choose to be baptized at eight years old. Eight is determined to be the age of accountability, when a child knows right from wrong. Baptism is performed by immersion, as Christ was baptized. It represents the burial and resurrection of Christ. With baptism Mormon's believe all sins are washed clean and it's a new beginning. After baptism, one may become clean again with repentance.

I hope this answers a lot of questions and opens doors for others. I enjoy learning about other religions and hope you enjoyed learning about mine. I love my faith.

Mormons today are called Latter-day Saints.

To Learn more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints check out www.mormon.org

From Apples to Understanding

I'm not going to log my personal progress in a book anymore. I've done that for I don't know how long, enjoying the process of completing the program repeatedly.  It's been fun, but having done that, I'm moving along. I'm almost certain no one reads these anyway. I write because writing lets me think and see truth clearly.

Daily living is daily learning. Every day is personal progress, as we choose.

I woke up this morning to finding myself back in Tigard going on a daily autumn walk I  once took with my young Jennifer. My mother was visiting. The walk was bright with the sun's rays warming our cheeks as our feet scuffed, sometimes crunching fallen leaves. I can still hear the sound. shh, shh, shh.

I can still see the lines on the gray haired woman's face. As she smiled they accented her eyes and lips in upward strokes. The happy lines only made her look happier, and made me smile, too.
"Hello," my mother said.
Before I knew it we were picking apples with the couple. We filled their basket, small talking as we went. Ruth talked far more than Wally and Jennifer became a magnet of attention.

I was shy, and my mother had opened a door. I continued to talk with Ruth after my mother returned home to Florida. I sometimes took them baked goods or jam. Ruth shared her sweet/ tart juicy apples. Wally talked sometimes, and I loved when they would laugh.

Ruth and Wally lived right next to where I attended church. One day we were having a large activity that I thought they might enjoy. That day was a day of learning for me.

Wally was outside working on his old truck when I approached him. I told him about what we called "Trunk or Treat," an autumn fest where we had an autumn dinner, played games, and decorated our cars for kids to trick or treating car to car afterward. Everyone dressed up and the costumes could be just as fun as the event itself.

Wally thanked me. He said they've lived beside that church many years. He'd been impressed by how people carried themselves and dressed in their Sunday best, suits with ties and dresses. They seemed friendly enough, he said, but he would never go to church because he'd stopped believing in God years before.

The change in Wally was instant. He suddenly became somber. I wanted to know.

"What happened that made you stop believing?"

Wally took me back to roaring planes and the blasts of bombs. WWII. He was one that stormed the concentration camps, freeing Jews. He spoke of seeing walking bones through skin, piled up dead, stench of rotting flesh and painted for me, the grimmest of scenes I still remember, and I wasn't even there. Tears were blinding as he brought me to his world.
"A God would never let that happen he said, what kind of God would allow a whole race to be erased? "That's why I can't believe. What kind of a God would allow such horrific suffering?"

My reply to him came slow. "I don't know."
I told Wally I was sorry he had to see such turmoil, but that I was glad he was there to save these people. I thanked Wally for his selfless service and told him he was a good man. "No I'm not," he said, "but I wish my wife thought I was."

I remember well how I pondered that conversation, how perplexed I became thinking about this lost hero. This man who braved the scene of death and suffering. This man who killed the enemy to free the dying, freeing a whole people allowing freedom and posterity.  And this man who never overcame his own bitter enemy to find peace and understanding, healing and wholeness.

One day as I meditated on Wally and that day he rescued so many, and the barbarian display he witnessed, the answer came to me. I remembered agency. God does not take away man's agency, but when I remembered that truth to pass on to Wally, it was too late. Wally had already passed.

Today where Ruth and Wally's little home sat, grand homes now cover the grass. A tall wooden development fence now stands where their apple trees once stood. Every now and again, I drive by that place, the place where great people dwelled. With Wally and Ruth gone, the world still turns and days bring change.

Despite what the world looks like, and the changes that come, be they good or bad. I am reminded of one that does not change. He helps me combat my own sufferings in trial, and my own enemies in my personal weaknesses.

God, our Father is the same for ever and ever and I am grateful to know that this is true.  This morning I am smiling, reminded that Wally knows that now, too.

Copyright 2013 Lori Ries All Rights Reserved.

On Stage Now...

This last post I posted I wrote a month and a half ago, I've adjusted quite well to the change of empty nests, and it surprised me. (The one with J leaving--not this post)

I just had the most unique dream and I feel like I should share it. Yes, it was that good.  I was so excited I tried to post it using my cell phone first thing, but it didn't do it justice as buttons were small and, in texting, the phone kept posting before I was ready or had the chance to edit.

In this stage of my life, I get to talk with all walks of women. I meet them everywhere. In my neighborhood, my writing life, in this world wide church...

Something that stands out strong to me, is that families are weakening. Maybe not yours or mine, but many. That's saddening. There are also many, many women who deal with the aftermath of missing fathers--either physically as with theirs leaving or divorce, or those just emotionally "checked out."

In many, many homes we are not lucky enough to have the Lehi best-case father scenario. That's just how it is. I believe many parents try to do their best with what they have and what they know. But there are the selfish. And that is by individual choice, and no one but that said individual can control their agency.

For those who are hurting, there is hope. That hope is within you.
Teach your children.

Last night, I dreamed I was part of a play. I stood on stage with my husband. We circled the stage, and when I came to the back part of the stage, this time circled with an infant. Then my husband took the infant in his arms and circled alone. Music began and a strobe light flashed as each time he circled he would do various activities with the girl, and other fathers and play daughters looking just a little older lined up to circle the stage. They flew a kite, roller-skated, rode bikes, fished, took photos, danced--did so many, many things as the strobe light made it appear the same father daughter with the daughter growing up. Then an older young woman danced with her dad across the front of the stage, and a young man appeared and she danced into his arms and they danced together going off stage and my husband walked alone with me and again we held hands, a little older, wiser, until we went through the back curtain. I woke then.
And I could on my own then envision the girl and her husband, their turn on stage with child.

Odd dream isn't it?
My growing years weren't perfect, just as many of my friends. But I look at my Katie and Dan and I marvel. We choose what we teach our children. We choose the values we display for them. And they, they can have the promised blessings of a healthy and whole family life.

Marriage is not perfect. The happily ever after of the fairytale is a dream. There are days when Cinderella feels overwhelmed and it shows in her unkempt hair after a long day of two in royal diedies.
Beauty has those days where she gets flustered with Beast's temper when he's stressed with work. Those wide fingers and sharp nails make keyboarding hard! And have you seen Snow Whites yard? The dwarves have their mining gear flung everywhere and Prince Charming won't help because he's too busy on the hunt, I won't even try to describe her kitchen after the lunch bunch.
Marriage is work. It is. It's work.  But if two people love each other, they can give and take to strengthen a marriage.
Marriage is sacrifice, without self-sacrifice. Marriage is also loving yourself so that you are fully able to love another. Marriage is trying to be the person your companion deserves, on both sides through the years. (That includes caring for yourself in health and appearance.)  Marriage is constantly inventing ways to keep the experiences of marriage new and exciting. Marriage is a learning and growing adventure where two people gain to become their best, celestial selves, in the end.

Don't let past baggage interrupt your marriage. If you have the past disrupting your lives due from serious past issues... get help. Don't hang up your marriage. With help a marriage can be as it once was.

If your spouse is not being the husband/ father he was and something has changed... communicate. Don't hang up your marriage. Talk it out and make some resolutions, it may not be just him that is falling short. You cannot know what one another is thinking if you don't talk, or write, if you're better communicating that way, but communicate.

Many things pile up, but they can be lived with. Unless someone is in danger or in an endless situation of torment and have already tried marital counseling, and there is no recovery... Don't hang up your marriage.

Looking at that stage, that girl growing up is each of us, the loving, ever present, ever guarding father--is our Father in Heaven. My lady friends everywhere, we are never alone.

In this day where Satan is working so hard on our families, recognize Our Father in Heaven's hand. He wants us to succeed. He wants us to succeed in our families and he wants us to teach our children to succeed in theirs.

There are simple things we can do to invite the spirit into our homes, to ease contention, and instill an atmosphere of solitude.
Do we have our personal prayer, in the morning and night?
Do we have personal and family scripture study?
Do we have family prayer with our families.

A bishop friend once told me he asks these questions in marital problem sessions.
Always two of the three are missing.

In strengthening our families, we can always turn to the perfect father who knows how to be a parent, and how to bring love and respect into our hearts and homes. After all, our children are, in reality, His.

Love your families. Be kind to your husbands and children. If they are not kind to you, call them on it, and ask your husbands and children to be kind to you. If it is past a bearable point, seek help first. Don't hang up your marriage. 

Happiness in the home is one of God's richest blessings here on earth.
I am grateful for my David and our own little family. I am grateful for the beautiful families my children now have. Katie's Ross is a wonderful man, and Dan's Emily is a wonderful woman. I pray this kind of joy will extend generations as our family grows and we continue to teach our children. My family's happiness is a wonderful gift in my life.

Something New

My stomach is twisting and turning this morning. That usually means I've gone too long without eating, or that something is up. In todays case, I know it's the latter. For the past three mornings, I've waken to the realization that after August third, I'll wake and Jennifer won't be here. ...so I'm now turning the situation on it's head to cope with that, finding myself telling myself, "in less than one year Jennifer will be coming home." I'm thinking about all the exchange student homecomings happening now.  J and I ran into an exchange Mom  at Subway just last week and she was so elated with just 36 hours and counting before her daughter, gone to Thailand, returned.  Jennifer and I are not just mother and daughter. She let me also become her friend at an early age and we are so close.

At first the exchange was exciting. We love exchange students, hosting and getting to know students from other countries and cultures. Although we went through the beginning outbound process, our elder daughter was chosen second to a girl who had experience with exchange students. We had none at the time. Jennifer has wanted to go on long term exchange since she was tiny, with a growing interest in the world's languages, and now for a year she'll be a student in Finland.

Up until now,  I've felt nothing but extreme excitement and an overwhelming joy for her. But the Momma heartstrings are getting tugged at these last days, and I'm finding since girl's camp that I'm selfishly grasping at every small moment I can find to be near her. She's at the Old fashioned festival right now gearing up to flip pancakes for Rotary's pancake breakfast. I just look at this girl and I marvel.

She's about to have so many amazing adventures, living in a place that can reach 30 below zero, among northern lights and frozen ocean, and, at the same time a midnight summer sun. Finland is a magical place filled with uniqueness.  School for her begins in two short weeks. New halls, new faces, new language, new family, new friends, new culture, new life.

At the same time, it's an amazing thing to be where exchange students gather. There's an automatic bond all around, and the pettiness/ cliquish social habits/ judging that you might see in a high school setting, among students, is not present. They're all instant friends on the same ground, in the same situation. I see Jennifer welcomed, respected, well liked, inclusion, and having been around youth in many scenarios, I think--why can't high school be like that? I see her learning, growing, stretching outside her comfort zone, and beyond happy. I see she belongs, and that she knows she belongs, and it's crazy. For Jennifer, it's perfect.

For me, it's going to also be new. I wasn't quite expecting to have the last of my children leave the nest two years early. What's it going to be like to suddenly have no children at home? To not have schedules that stretch my sane ability? What's it going to be like to shop for just two? Cook for just two, and sometimes one? So many questions and I just don't know. Especially now I'm glad to have my son and daughter in law at least near. And I'm glad my husband is working from home more. This change is going to feel strange. Even as good and as exciting as this situation is. I'm about to grow in a new kind of way, and I think I'm about to learn more about myself as well as I see how well I adapt, as Jennifer learns to adapt in her new surroundings. For her it's an experience north, and for me a North Experiment.

I am excited to see her journey through her. What an amazing opportunity! That keeps me smiling.  :)

A Place to Grow

For the next ten days, I'm going to share the experience I am about to have with Highlights Foundation to bring awareness of this great organization that serves writers.

In 2002 I was introduced to wonderful Highlights Foundation when I was given a scholarship to attend their Chautauqua Writing workshops for a week in nostalgic Chautauqua NY. Our family had fallen on serious hard times with my husband's company closing their doors, claiming bankruptcy, and throwing us in to immense debt after sending him on a trip to work in Europe. Then I had to have a rather hard surgery, and experienced hard complications so after being taken by ambulance late one night, had a second surgery to redo stitches. Third (they say they come in threes) when my doctor gave me the green light to be up and moving, he told David to take me to a movie and that night our car was stolen from the parking lot. Little did I know all three things were blessings.

Not able to move much, with my fast paced Mom life slowed, I grew weary of television, movies, books, and turned to my childhood love of writing for entertainment. I wrote two stories, and realized they were actually pretty good, got bold, and prepared them, and asked my children to mail them for me to the Friend.  Both were accepted in a quick turn around. Just days later I was holding two contracts. I was astonished and astonished by the feelings I was having. Something just happened here.

Highlights Foundation (Not the magazine, but the part of Highlights that builds writers) sent me something called "The Chautauqua Report." This was a copy of all the talks that were given by the renowned authors, editors, publishers that had come to their workshops the year before. The more I read, the more my, sponge like, desire to write soaked it up. I felt that I should Highlights to learn more. I was told to apply for the scholarship, even if I didn't think I'd qualify. I drew a breath afraid of failing and did, sending as my writing sample, a little story I called, "Rocking Chair Time."

I had no idea then what was involved. Since then, I've been privileged to serve Highlights in reading the pile of manuscripts sent in for scholarship/ grant consideration, and I am still so amazed that I was one of a number chosen, having seen for myself the level of writing I see when I get to share in that process.

While I had Highlights on the phone, I also asked about The Institute of Children's Literature. I'd taken their test years before, and somehow, even when I'd move they'd find me. We'd been scammed by a vacation company once, so I am not going to be scammed again. I learned that the Institute of Children's Literature, was not a phishing game, but is truly, not only reputable, but highly respectable, and many of Highlights Writers come from that Program--me now included.

Long Story Shortened my husband knew my passion and told me we would replace the car with something used and that the teens could drive, get himself a motorcycle, and with the rest of the ins. money he wanted to send me to the Institute to improve my writing and teach me to create. He added he'd give me Chautauqua if he could, but we just couldn't afford that.--Then, surprisingly, I did get a scholarship, bu was short $800.  What was interesting is that is the amount that was left after the car, after the motorcycle, and after enrolling at the Institute of Children's Literature. David gave me the money and said I needed to go. I found myself in Chautauqua, a scared newbie, well cared for by Highlight's Foundation. That week I wrote my first book, Super Sam.  My reader that week was darling Emily Mitchell, then assistant editor at Charlesbridge Publishing, and Charlesbridge published it in 2004. It was Emily's first acquisition and my first ever picture book. The experience in Chautauqua learning from the best changed my life and my direction in life, at that point I knew I was reborn, a writer, and my life could never be that same.

Today, The Foundation no longer holds their workshops in Chautauqua, but in Boyds Mills, on the Meyers Family Homestead here in Pennsylvania, where the Highlight's dream, that has served generations of children, was created. For years the Meyers (now passed) legacy has lived on in the very home where writers have gathered for workshops and learning with their esteemed mentors. The Meyers dining table has hosted hundreds of greats like Jane Yolen, Joy Cowley, Jerry and Eileen Spinelli, and many more. I, myself, have been privileged to lead workshops here, and it been beautiful to envision the Meyers children at play in the fields or Mrs. Meyers at the stove being a guest in their family home. Kent Brown, Grandson of Gary Meyers, along with the family, has kept this good going and growing.

Today the Founders Home sits quietly in sight while a newly built edifice buzzes. The barn is a large conference center, which now takes the place for Chautauqua, making these workshops, conferences, and retreats more affordable and accessible to more. Workshops for children's writers and illustrators are spread over the year, meeting all genre and interest needs. Professional faculty create workshops and opportunities to hone writer skills and learn what the industry currently wants.

Writers are cocooned in their cabins of serenity, and the writing energy is magic here.

So, What I am I doing here this round? I've been invited to a short workshop just before mine to sit in and learn about writing for religious and inspirational markets. My friend Kristi Holl is teaching "Sharing Our Hope."  I met Kristi at that first Chautauqua I went to. She is gifted, a writing giantess, a retired teacher at the Institute of Children's Literature, and a beautiful person. In a world where edgy is in, I'm very much looking forward to her light, in wisdom about writing around the challenging popular edgy market.

Then, my friend and editor Kim Griswell and I have been teamed up to assist at a non workshop- pure writer retreat to be go-to girls when the writers here need help with the projects they are working on. We'll have professional visitors and after dinner discussions/ writing exercises to get the group charged and united getting to know each other.  One on ones is something I really love, and I hope to be busy giving back what I've learned from the Foundation to Foundation writers that are here seeking wisdom. I'm excited for the stories I'll read and the time I'll get to spend helping with writing humps. There's nothing greater than to see a writer's eyes widen and a smile burst forth after a trouble spot disappears. Sometimes that's even followed by a hug because there's so much happy energy that has to go somewhere--then they're off writing again and share the finished product which can and has had me in awe. I've even set up meetings with my editor at Boyds Mills- and gotten a surprise in the mail when the book we worked on years later was published. That's the best!

It doesn't always work that way, and honestly, it's not what I hope for. My goal here is to give my all to writers so they can have a life changing experience. Whether it's giving them something new in truths that improve their creative process. Whether it's building confidence and helping them beyond the fear of failure or of visibility in the spotlight, whether it's turning the manuscript into something ready for submission. At Highlights Foundation we work with the individual trying to get them to that next level of wherever they are and beyond. All needs are different, and all writers are at different places in the journey.

For me, I'm just grateful to be able to continue to grow in the workshop that starts tonight and to have the opportunity to give back tomorrow.
My writing life is beyond sweet, especially here, where I was reborn, a writer.