I am From

Last night I went to a writers workshop at our local library. During the class the instructor had us write down who we were based off a poem by Mary Pipher. At the time I was stumped as to what to even write but as I listened to others sharing what they wrote I was inspired. We all have a backstory and here is a little bit of mine.

 I am from- 

 I am from Rusty and Kim, James and Penny, Boyd and Alice. I am from a long line of hard workers and military veterans. From people who have fought for our country and those that helped build it. 

 I am from the plains of Oklahoma, the Adirondack Mountains of New York, and the rainy forests of Oregon. 

 I am from the dusty hay lofts of my grandfather's dairy farm and the beautiful dress up clothes from the playhouse my grandmother built. My childhood was steeped in the imagination that only a child can conjure when given all opportunity to be free to do so.

 I am from gardens planted with care and eggs collected from softly clucking chickens. 

 I am from cold nights spent in front of the woodstove listening to stories from Laura Ingalls Wilder and Patrick F McManus.

 I am from dreamers and doers.

 I am from wiffle ball games in the field and baseball games during the summer. I am from tire swings and tractor tires filled with sand. 

 I am from the books I read from sunup to sunset. I am from listening to windchimes while curled up under a blanket on a porch swing with a book in my hand. 

 I am from exploring pastures and woods. I am from days of riding bareback on ponies and imagining them to be wonderful steeds or cow ponies. 

 I am from all the homesteaders who have gone before me and have passed their wisdom and knowledge on so that I too can be self sufficient and provide for my family. 

 I am my own song and dance playing out in the life I am living.


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