I am from snow pants and toboggans, from stacks of library books and homemade mac ‘n cheese.
I am from the big house on the corner, filled to the brim with friends and strangers and children always underfoot. I am from crab apple trees and lilac bushes. I am from a red metal swing set and forts in the basement. I am the brave hero and beautiful princess and brilliant police dog from thousands of adventures. I am from Anne Shirley, and Laura Ingalls, and Caddie Woodlawn.
I am from camping trips and bike rides, from going for a drive, with no particular destination in mind. I am from Bill and Barb and the Robson girls. I am from eating ice cream year round and reading into the night. I am from “life isn’t fair” and “God is in charge” and “The Old Rugged Cross.” I am from napping in a slip between morning church and evening service.
I am from eating the crusts after the Breaking of Bread and stealing sugar cubes in the foyer. I am from Pioneer Girls and Awana and Youth Group. I’m from The Meeting, from the Chapel, from full-time ministry, from questions and wrestling and finding my own way to love Jesus.
I am from Calgary and Scotland, roast beef and apple pie. From the old country, from a farm on the prairies, from stories of William Wallace. I am from Los Angeles, from avocado and orange trees, from cousins down the street. I am from family friends and Three Day Meetings, from a man who fell in love with his friend’s little sister, from a 19-year-old woman who moved across the continent for him.
I am from slide shows of family trips, from playing in the attic, from progressive Christmas dinners. I am from the blue Porsche in the garage, built before I was born. I am from walks around the reservoir and climbing the big “H”, from Stampede breakfasts and cowboy hats.
I am from biting my tongue and being the better person. I am from laughing and eating and endless small talk. I am from people who always have room for more, who always have more to give.
So here’s me.
Taking part of the I Am From synchro-blog at She Loves Magazine. You don’t have to be a writer, just follow the template and write your own version of George Ella Lyon’s poem. It’s worth doing.