Tell me more...tell me more!!

I started reading at a very early age.

In fact, by the time I was in the first grade, I was such a good reader that my teacher sent me to the second grade for reading class...because the first grade curriculum just wasn't 'challenging enough'.

But I'm not here to brag about my early learning experiences. That's just part of it...heehee...

If you had asked me, I would've told you the plain and simple truth. It didn't involve brains or intellect. It wasn't that I was some sort of "Super Student". It was...simply...this:

I love a good story!

I can't help it! There's something about starting with "Once upon a time..." and getting to the "happily ever after" that I think we all enjoy. Oh, not every good story ends or begins with those exact words...but I believe we all want to hear someone tell us about their life. So we can compare it to ours....or find out what we have in common...or find out about a certain place...or just to laugh. Or cry. We love a good story.

Maybe that's why reality television is so popular?

But I'm not here to talk about Survivor...or the Biggest Loser. I'm here to talk about a boy named Tommy.

This boy had the most exciting life! I mean...he was almost killed by my uncle Rick several times over...he survived (just barely!) a family vacation that involved a terrorizing group of raccoons in the garbage cans....and he was constantly riding around either on this pony or in a go-cart. The kid was something else!

At least to hear my Grandma tell it.

My love of Story began with Dr. Seuss' "And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street"...but it was my Grandma who cinched my love of Story by telling me and my sister about my Dad's childhood. Those family vacations...and incidents with raccoons...and go carts...and historic fights that he and our uncle Rick had together! Those stories were better than TV! My sister and I found out over the years that Dad was cool! This COULD NOT be the same person we lived with!

My Grandma may not have known exactly what kind of 'monster' she was helping to create, though. I fell in love with Story and it's consumed me...this love affair...and it's continued throughout my life.

From high school diaries that tell 'my' story...to learning the art of acting and being able to tell the stories of others on stage...to becoming a grown up and telling stories every so often around a family campfire. I realize the power Story has in my life.

So much power, in fact, that I've been paid for telling stories to elementary school students. So much power that I've spent close to 900 kaprillion dollars on scrapbooking supplies just for the opportunity to journal about a birthday party. To record a special event. To tell the Story.

Yesterday, the power of Story came up again. I found myself with a captive audience wanting to hear more. "Tell us more about Hannah growing up!" I heard. So I did.

And I thought of my Grandma right then. Did she understand the POWER of Story?

Do we? Really?

Do you, my friend, understand how important it is that you share some of yourself with others? You have incredible influence in people's lives...and you may not realize it...but someone is listening to you. What are you telling them?

You are a main character in a very good story. And someone wants to hear more...I encourage you today to share a piece with someone. And I also encourage you to listen. Who knows? You may find yourself falling in love with Story...

and living happily ever after. The End.