Give hope or promise.
Give help or patronage.
Inspire with courage and words.
I’d like to give credit where credit is due, but I just can’t think of the instructor’s name, although as I vaguely remember, two words come to mind that describes her as petite and pretty.
We were a small class of “want-to-be” writers, sitting in a classroom, on the campus of Westark Community College, in the early 1980’s.
After convincing myself that my family could make it just fine without me for approximately four hours, one night a week, for six weeks…I enrolled in a Creative Writing Class. After returning home from the first week’s meeting and finding no dirty dishes stacked in the kitchen sink, every unneeded light switched off, shoes picked up, no clothes scattered about and the dog fed and watered, convinced me further that this was a good idea and was going to be quite a venture for me, as I leisurely sat down, glancing over my notes along with next week’s assignment that the instructor had stapled and passed out to each of us. The last page read:
“YOU ARE A LOVER OF WORDS”
You notice little things, and make otherwise impossible imaginings appear real, You are a rare bird who thinks the world is beautiful enough to try to figure it out, who has the courage to dive into your wild mind. Your are someone who still believes in cloud watching, people watching, daydreaming, tomorrow, favorite colors, silver clouds, dandelions and sorrow. Be sacred. Be cool. Be wild. Go far. Although I don’t remember her name, when I read these words now…the words of encouragement…her image becomes clearer and I wonder, were these her original words that she chose to give to these want-to-be writers or were they words passed along to her before advancing to the role of instructor?
Whatever the case, scattered among this paragraph of words, there was encouragement enough to convince and inspire one good-enough-want-to-be writer to advance her skilled in writing and should I ever meet up with her…someplace this petite and pretty instructor (whom I don’t remember her name,) and if by chance we both find the time to chit-chat for awhile, I will tell her (after apologizing for my forgetfulness that I believe my days are measured by what I do with them, and I still remember some of the rules and regulations, and the guidelines for writers she taught and always try to adhere to them, especially when finding the time to write stories that evokes warm memories and brings back the good times and it will really “do my heart good” just to let her know….she gave voice to my dreams.