Observations all along the line - Kimball & the Southern Panhandle First

Randomly Tonia

In the beginning

My grandma used to watch us when my mom worked and we were too young for school. Our time together was short, usually just a few hours. Still, we often had lunch with her and then she would rest in her chair and watch her stories.

I would get a big Children’s Bible out, a pencil and paper, and begin copying the symbols on each page, one after the other in long lines – just like I saw them in the book.

I couldn’t read, and I didn’t know that those symbols were letters which, when strung together in certain patterns became words. I had no idea that those words, when paired with others, became a story. Still, I copied them.

When I finally learned to read I couldn’t get enough books. I read as many as I could get my hands on. Then, not long after learning to read “See Jane run?”, I began writing.

I began by rewriting words I already knew and felt compelled to put on paper. I moved on to copying words I didn’t know, and having someone dictate their meaning. Once I did, once I had written them down, it was so easy to remember each one.

In second grade I learned Haiku.

Words written in a specific order regaling the reader, capturing the essence of any subject – and it was a work of art to me. I wrote Haiku about my dog, about my mom and even the tree that I climbed.

When I began to write I couldn’t be stopped.

In junior high I developed short stories, penned poetry and long letters. The act of writing was therapeutic and the result – powerful, even if no one would ever read what was written.

Now I record events as they happen, I relay that to readers who trust me to tell the story. It is a privilege and an awesome responsibility.

We, the reporters and recorders, are charged with telling the story that is difficult to read as well as the tale that is fun to tell. We are trusted to give voice to the voiceless and to do so truthfully and artfully.

We must be fair but fast, diligent, courageous, open and above all, honest.

I was thanked today for telling someone’s story and can only say this, “You tell your own story, thank you for letting me record it for others to read.”

Words told the story.

Simple, classic, beautiful.

Lovely work of art.

 
 
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