I have always loved words, stories and books. It has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. The richness that adds texture and depth to descriptions, plots that captivated me, allowing me to travel vicariously, characters that were revealed that I might never have met, enhanced my childhood.
I could spend my days seeped in the magic of story. I kept lists of words and descriptions that intrigued and resonated with me. I still do! Descriptions of places I had yet to travel, characters brimming with personality, events and emotions I had yet to understand, all encouraged my love of story. As a child, I would imagine myself a storyteller of long ago: traveling from village to village, gathering tales and earning my meals by describing natural occurrences in the world, building bridges between different cultures and entertaining others, hopefully, with integrity.
As a teacher, and mother of three, I used stories daily trying to engage and encourage the children in a vast variety of ways. Many of the stories continually exposed and helped developed good character, values and virtues. The stories helped them understand how and why they should interact with one another. They learned about historical characters with their strength and weaknesses, other cultures that would expose more of the similarities of mankind, bridging gaps…having an impact.
While I was in the Peace Corps, I met my husband and eventually began traveling throughout the world, filling my trunk with stories. Whether my love of travel and stories is from my father, a sea captain, or not, I know the ancient art of storytelling is in my blood.