From The Heart

I may never be a famous published novelist, but I read with pride today an essay my daughter left on the refrigerator. She takes part in a program for gifted students called WOW; it’s a writer’s workshop for kid’s grade 3-5. She wrote her essay on Greyhounds, which is a subject close to both of our hearts. She gets as attached to the fosters Greyhounds as I.

As a mom, I want the best for my kids and I want them happy. I’ve never gone out of my to push either of them to write, I’ve instead given them the freedom to follow their hearts and find their own interests and passions. This morning while I read her essay I discovered my kid feels the same excitement I do from writing. It radiated off the page with every carefully chosen word. I was awestruck that I helped create this awesomely talented child and at the same time I found myself with tears in my eyes because she already knows she can be whatever she wants and I had no clue at her age because I wasn’t told I could succeed at writing or any of the arts even though that’s where my interest were.

I see a child the exact opposite of myself, yet I see my subtle influences in all that she does whether it’s her writing, sports or the procrastination when it’s time to clean. She’s outgoing, confident, and intelligent and has the most amazing sense of humor for a nine-year-old, then adds her natural inner and outer beauty and you have a lethal combination. It leaves me to wonder how I helped mold, shape or whatever you want to call it when I’m still learning how to be “ME”.

I might not be the next famous novelist, but my child has shown me this morning that it really doesn’t matter as long as I love the words I’m writing and I write them from the heart.