Writting as Therapy

I have been blessed to be involved in the PALS program. Partnering Ambassadors for Life and Service is an Athens-based program administered by Women to the World. Its function is to provide the skills needed to improve the education and future of young women and men who have faced challenges in their lives. To empower those persons with the knowledge and ability to overcome situations, which in many cases, were beyond their control.

I've been teaching a creative writing class. I have found that writing is in many cases the best therapy. At times, the simple pieces written by fledgling writers, as they step cautiously from the nest, are heart wrenching or heartwarming. As with many things, you tend to find that those you think you are teaching, teach you in the process. Writing your pain is a hard thing to do and beginning is the hardest part. Thank you Peggy, for beginning, and for allowing me to post this. Your courage is an inspiration to all.

 A House        

By Peggy Mitchell

            When I was a little girl, my family lived in this beautiful house. Two doors down there was a very small house. The thing I noticed about this small house was how it always smelled of spices. The scent of good food seemed to always flow from it. On the other hand, my house never smelled of spices and good food. My house smelled of dampness and sorrow. From the outside, you would never guess what the inside was like unless you lived in it.

            One day I decided to pay the small house a visit. I knocked on the door, and a voice from inside invited me in. When I entered the house, I was surprised to find they had no furniture. No beds, no chairs, no television and no radio. They owned no material things. What they had and what my house was missing was, they had plenty of love. I know now that is why their house smelled of spices and other good stuff.

Here, is a similar paragraph from my book. We were in a beautiful garden, stealing its contents. The family who owned it sat only a few feet away. The harsh light from inside the house coupled with the darkness of the early morning was our only protection.

I realized what the warm feeling was I had imagined in the house. It was the feeling of normalcy, love, tenderness and maybe even understanding. All things I longed for, but only dreamed about. I think most people can understand the want of love and tenderness. However, to want a normal life is something most people cannot fathom. Love and tenderness are fundamental things, but when you have to dream of a normal existence, you truly are a lost soul.

Please contact Women to the World or Pals to find out what you might do to change the world. Here's the phone number 706-548-0000.