The Gift That Waited
It’s Never Too Late
STORYBOOK
10/19/20262 min read
I often hear people express how they knew from a very early age what they were going to be or what they wanted to do when they grew up. I was not one of those kids. I didn’t really think much beyond the present time I was living in. As a kid, I just wanted to be a kid and do what kids do…play.
I grew up in a family of eight, dad, mom, two brothers and three sisters. Raised with Christian values. We lived on a couple acres outside a town in mid Ohio, in a house my dad built. We had a big garden, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins around us. A place for making some wonderful memories.
Fast forward to grade school/junior high in a small dot of a farm town of about 2000 people. Summers spent riding bikes, swimming at the public pool, and collecting some friends along the way. But it was during those school days that I developed a love for music and in the depths of my being, a desire to create.
There were wonderful experiences with music in junior high and high school which I am very grateful for but creation was still somewhat of an untapped gift. I designed and sewed some of my on clothes, and reupholstered a second hand chair. Made a couple of costumes for school events. I guess it was a start.
Motherhood brought three wonderful children into my life and crafts. Now where getting somewhere. Paint, glue, markers, ribbons, fabric, and paper. It was only a small taste of things to come.
Work, retirement and along came junk journals where anything goes. Yes, I become obsessed. Dying paper, collecting leaves, yard sale treasure (to me), and more glue and more paint and more paint brushes…and here I am today. Creating, writing, and sharing it with you.
So, the moral of this story, there is always something inside each of us. A desire, a thought, a dream that was given to you long ago that may still linger in the recesses of your mind. Let me just say, it’s never too late!
In Hope,
Rhoda
Email
Rhoda@Rhodas-Place.net
Norman, Oklahoma
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