Last night was the final night of our special writing classes called, "Writing From the Heart." Some people invited family and friends to hear us read our stories and poetry. Afterward we shared a potluck meal of all sorts of wonderful food.
I read three of my poems. Two of them fit in the category of "Me, too" and I ended with a funny one. Always leave them laughing, they say. They were well received, which always humbles me. And makes me smile. I'm a writer. I can finally say that and believe it. I've wanted this for so long.
My mother writes poetry. Her name is Hazel and she is back in the hospital. I found out when I came home from class last night. Kind of puts everything back into perspective. Please pray for her.
Some of my sisters write and some of my nieces. We all have a little Hazel in us; this gift of writing. I call us "The Hazel Girls." We are strong women, surviving various kinds of pain in this life. We are poets, novelists, musicians, song writers. We dig deep into our pain and it opens us up to share our lives in hope of inspiring and comforting others.
Lately, my pen just won't stop. The ink flows out in ways that is even surprising to me.
It seems I've been given a gift.
Passed down from Hazel, my birth mother.
I always wondered where if came from.
Now I know.
I'm a Hazel Girl.
Get well soon, Mother.
Gratitude
1. Having two mothers who love/d me.
2. The gift of writing
3. The gift of prayer
2Corinthians 3:5
Not that we are competent
in ourselves to claim anything
for ourselves,
but our competence comes from God.
Blessings,
Deborah
