Laster winter term Carli took a creative writing class. The first day of class the teacher asked each student why they were interested in taking this class. You know, the awkward stand up at your desk and try to think of something creative as an intro moment.
Carli stood up at her desk red-faced, stumbling said, I want to be a more creative writer. Oooooh, did that WOW the creative writing instructor or what?
Her Dad once told her that if she could write about something as simple as say, a rock, she’d become a better, more creative, writer.
That same winter we gathered a dozen or so rocks along the Puget Sound in Washington. From the birdbath of rocks we both picked our three favorites. Then out of the three we picked one, this one…
This stone was hard, a little lumpy. I thought it looked like a nose. Hali liked it’s feel. Oooooh, that’s weird. We call it the the “thankful rock” and every night before bed hold it in our hands and say, out loud, what we are thankful for.
The nightly rock ritual goes something like this…