Maybe it was my grandmother with her apples. My grandfather with his knowledge. Or my mother with her love. But I had already learned the lesson that Mark Twain wrote of, long before I read it : “If you want love and abundance in your life, give it away.”
— Mark Twain
It was in our green house on Van Dyke Road. In the bedroom I shared with my sister. Above the renters who lived below us. I leaned against the wall. My feet perched on the bed to make a table for my book. Tom Sawyer. I devoured the words. So engrossed in the story I wasn’t even bothered that she kept kicking my feet off the bed. Space was not our plenty. But since the first day Mrs Bergstrom taught us to read at Washington Elementary, she knocked down every brick wall of that school and told us we could go anywhere. Anywhere! Each word was a ticket and I turned mine in. Over and over. My abundance.
You can ban the books. We already have the words. You can lock the doors to the church, we already have the love. You can overprice the school, we’ve already knocked it down.
Today I’m waking in the lovely home that our dear friends share with us as we travel. Basking in their abundance, offering you mine. We all have something to give.