Okay, I will admit it. I am a stalker of authors. I love hearing from them so I sit myself down and compose heartfelt and sincere letters hoping to receive a nugget of their brilliance with the remote chance it will wear off on me. Below is a correspondence from Vanessa Diffenbaugh--author of The Language of Flowers (another book I would highly recommend). I love her assistant's entry and am forever grateful for both of them for taking the time to write (and adding a microscopic piece of brilliance to my brain).
A Picture of a Star
Thank you for reaching out! It makes me so happy to hear that my book is of some comfort to you at this time. I think it's wonderful that you are writing a blog, and a trip to India sounds very exciting. My family and I are actually hoping to travel there sometime next year.
Since I am working on the final edits of my book and am also busy with my young children, I am trying not to take on any additional writing projects. I really appreciate your invitation! After reading your blog, my assistant has offered to contribute a short post if you would like to include it (attached below).
I wish you all the best on your journeys--both health-related and otherwise.
A Picture of a Star
Sometimes the easiest way to put life into perspective is to listen to what children have to say. I used to work at an elementary school in a first grade classroom, and the students would say so many surprising and perceptive things to me each week that I started keeping a notebook full of their effortless aphorisms. This began about four years ago, and now, whenever I feel myself forgetting how wondrously simple life can be, I return to my notebooks and remind myself how to look at the world with a child’s honesty, enthusiasm, and awe. Here are some examples:
Just recently, after painting with a group of kids, a girl held up her paint-splattered hands and said, “Art Class always gives you a high five!”
A boy saw me trimming maps of the world so they would fit on class folders, and with a hurt and horrified expression he said, “Ms. Emily, why are you cutting the world in half?”
During a grammar lesson a characteristically rambunctious boy turned pensive and compared an apostrophe to a crescent moon.
A boy’s spelling homework was so poetic, that I attempted to insert line breaks and stanzas for fun. One of my favorite lines: “The mean dust bunny quarrels every time.” And the final stanza: When I am 100 years old/ I will be an astronaut/ and get a picture of a star. /And I will remember/ that star.
Once a little girl said to me out of the blue, “You know Ms. Emily, you’re still a child to your parents” (this was the same little girl who always reprimanded me when she caught me drinking cola at lunchtime). Of course this is true, and although I enjoy the adult benefit of eating as much junk food as I please, I aspire daily to get in touch with my own inner child, and bring it out in the people I know.
Thanks for reading # 102 of 7777.