I stood at the sink and looked up from the dishes. Out the window I could see her in the garden, pen and paper in hand writing down the stories in her head. Seeing her out there, sitting under the arch, pushed on something inside of me. It made me feel happy and free. I ran outside and snapped a picture.
As I walked back to the house I pondered why it had struck me so deeply. It dawned on me that she was reminding me of myself. Pictures of me propped up in a tree reading and writing came to mind. It brought back those carefree feelings of being a third grader. When I was in third grade I wanted to be either an artist or a writer, the same professions my daughter aspires to be. My parents even signed me up for a writing class when I was nine and I can still remember sitting at a desk in the dusty attic typing stories on the typewriter, imagining my name in print on my very own book.
But time has a way of stealing some of those aspirations away. And seeing her there in the garden, young and free, reminded me of who I was called to be. She awakened longings in my heart. She made me want to climb a tree and write or create some art. She reminded me of the importance of doing those things that make my heart feel alive.
Days later I found this poem sitting on her desk, challenging me again to write and create.
Thanks Sarah for being who you are!
Sing So Everybody Can Hear, by Sarah Buckwalter
What is that sound, so peaceful, quiet and soft.
Whatever that is, don't stop playing,
That's the sound of music.