The first time I thought I might be a writer was in fifth grade

The new girl in school

I burst into tears during a math lesson

Numbers – I don’t get them, they’re dumb and stupid

But the teacher,

I wrote her a story

And slipped it to her in class one day and said, “Don’t tell anyone.”

I was afraid people would laugh at me

Because words – I get them, they feed me.

That blessed woman gave me hope

She returned the story with encouraging cursive words on my whimsical story

Kindness like bowl a slightly warmed vanilla ice cream with salted caramel served with a non-sticky spoon, that’s what it was like to my new girl heart.

Then I started giving stories to her regularly

Her praise fed my creativity, affirmed the longing in my heart to be a scribe of sorts.

Oh Mrs. Schindel, I love you, if you only knew how you made me feel like a writer.

Is there someone who has inspired you? I could go on and on about this word!

Thanks for stopping  leave a  comment, writers love to know someone has read their work!

This blog post was initiated by Five minute Friday, so cool!