Where I'm From

I started the month out with a post about who I am, and it seems right to end likewise. So I recently found this writing exercise in a random browse online, and decided I'd do it. (It originally comes from the author George Ella Lyon, and although I probably didn't do it justice, it was fun to try.)

I have really enjoyed blogging every day this month, and I promise to keep up the frequent posting. So keep reading, and keep commenting! Thanks.

Where I'm From

I am from bookshelves stacked three deep, from Barnes and Noble and the county library.

I am from houses someone else owns, from towns without stoplights, from casseroles brought over by new neighbors.

I am from the rose rock, the wide open plains, the rumble of thunder on a hot June afternoon.

I am from Sunday pot roast, from being always right, from Lin and Stephanie and Sylvester and Burns.

I am from the always fifteen minutes early, the spelling gene and the sweaty palms. From the blonde and blue-eyed, from the easily burned.

From an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and babies and fruit only spoil if you leave them on the shelf too long. From it only takes a spark and this little light of mine. From a pink-purple-polka-dotted Christmas, and from I knew this would happen.

I am from small-town Protestant churches. From friendly competition with the Southern Baptists, from the fellowship hall and the narthex and the pew and the nursery, from folding bulletins by hand. I'm from acceptance of differences and a sense of spirituality greater than humans can quantify. From I'll do my thing and you do yours.

I'm from Oklahoma, from Germany and Sweden, from liver and onions, from Grandma's oatmeal cookies. From Kansas corn and German accents, from pale northern climes and comforting nasal tones.

From the wandering preacher, son of the insurance salesman, who loves to tell stories and make music. From the Latin teacher, daughter of the deaf lady who married the math genius at 18, who never has time to read but has always had time for a bedtime song.

I am from a box full of memories beneath my couch, a phone call from a thousand miles away, a family reunion somewhere in the mountains. I am from compassion, understanding, and love.

No matter where I lay my head, I will always remember where I'm from.