They have a way of calming my troubled self.
For me, they are the pin prick of light in the belly of an endless tunnel.
They wash over my soul and squeeze tightly to my heart.
Looking back on my life, I realize that writing has always been a part of me, nearly as important as eating, breathing, and sleeping.
If I am struggling with something in my life, the first place I turn is to a pencil and paper, or more recently, a computer and a keyboard.
Some of my favorite memories as a child and young adult are of me sitting in my bedroom filling up notebook upon notebook with stories.
This love for writing stemmed from reading, where I first discovered my love for words.
When my crazy, busy life allows, (or more accurately I make a conscious effort to ignore the laundry, dishes, and general disrepair of our home) and plop down with a book, my soul is at peace.
Today I read a book by one of my favorite children's authors, Kate DiCamillo.
It's a book I've heard quite a bit about over the years and just haven't sat down to read.
If I'm being honest, the cover just didn't pique my interest.
I know you should never judge a book by its cover but judge I did and a part of me is glad I did.
Had I not judged this cover I would have read the book years ago and it probably wouldn't have had quite the impact that it had on me today.
Kate's words and story about Edward Tulane washed over me and squeezed tightly at my heart.
I can't remember the last time I finished a book and immediately wanted to pick it up and read it all over again.
The story about a journey of a china rabbit named Edward Tulane touched my heart.
Thank you Kate for sharing your wisdom.
If we have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey really is pointless, don't you think?