This dates me, but I remember my first days in grade school when my parents would buy my supplies and I’d keep them in a cigar box. I remember the first few years included the fat, brightly colored pencils and their large erasers. Then, the day finally came when I learned “cursive” writing. I was excited because it meant I’d finally learn to create those squiggly lines that only adults could read. And it also meant I’d get my first pen. Yep, I’d finally be writing with something besides a pencil. And back then our high tech pens were called “fountain pens”. I got mine and some cartridges that held the ink for the pen, and I was off to the races.
My love for letters and words began long before I set foot in a school. My earliest recollections are of my Grandmother and my Mom reading stories and the Sunday “funnies” to me. I think the word pictures those stories and comic strips helped me create led to my lifelong habit of observing kids and families.
Here’s how I see it…observation creates thoughts. Thoughts create ideas. And ideas create words. Words create sentences. Sentences create paragraphs. Paragraphs create verses or chapters or books. So, it’s like the power of observation becomes good ink for the pen. Or in my case, nowadays, digits for the computer keyboard.
What do you think? Do ideas ever become ink for your pen?
Or do you prefer to leave writing to those of us who can’t seem to stop our ideas from flowing out? Well, whether you write…or prefer to read, I hope ideas and words dance in your thoughts today and everyday.
The little girl who fell and bruised her knee on the ground
Didn’t know her tears were some more ink for the pen.
The little boy who ran and laughed and jumped all around
Didn’t know his giggles were more ink for the pen.
The dog that chased a ball and caught it right in the air
Didn’t know its wagging tail was ink for the pen.
The ducks that saw the dog and then scattered everywhere
Didn’t know they quacked up some more ink for the pen.
The loved ones who were here but have since passed away
Didn’t know their lives provided ink for the pen.
Until I leave this world and my body’s cast away
I’ll write about this love that brings me ink for the pen.
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