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The Gift of Words

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It’s a beautiful day.  The sun is peeping through the clouds.  A slight breeze is blowing which at times makes me shiver.  The warmth of spring is just beginning, so there are still remnants of winter’s chill.  I sit on my patio, trying to block the sun from my eyes.  At times the glare on my computer is too harsh and I can barely see what I am writing.  A fire engine roars by, disturbing the quiet meanderings of a Wednesday afternoon.  Cars rush to and fro up the street in front of my apartment, in a hurry to get to somewhere.  Children laugh as they get off the school bus, happy another day of study has ended.  They anxiously await bikes, skateboards, and video games…hoping their parents will have forgotten that they have homework to do.  A teenage girl walks by me.  Her head is bowed as she faces the ground.  She looks sad, and I can’t help but wonder what is going on with her.  These days it could be anything from a boyfriend to a bully.  I’m glad I’m not a teenager in today’s world.  They know too much far too soon.  But deep inside, they are still children.

I spent a lot of time writing today.  It feels good to write.  Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like without writing.  Would I even be the same person?  Writing has been my solace, my therapy, my friend for so long.  It helps me connect with other people, with nature, with God, and with myself.  At times I see words wrapping around me, enfolding me like a gentle hug.  They are my gift to myself, even if nobody else reads them.



Written by cherylawilliams

March 7, 2012 at 7:51 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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