As writers, we pride ourselves on our ability to tell a story. No matter the genre or the length, everything we do, in essence, is a product of us constructing a sequence of events and writing it in a way that others will find enjoyable. I like to think it is our gift.
Although we love to share our own little darlings, we should also consider that writing is not our only talent---we have the ability, and the desire, to share stories, regardless of who wrote them. We are storytellers. And at Christmas time, for some people, a story can be the greatest gift.
We've all read at least one book to a child, and delighted in their appreciation. Some of us have read to a church group, or to family or in front of a class. Regardless of the audience, it is an experience like no other. It is a way to share something we love, a story, and see the effect it has on another.
In the coming week, I will be reading to a group of senior citizens. It's not the first time I've done this, nor will it be the last. But this time, I won't be reading something I wrote, because it isn't about me. This is a way to give something to them, a generation of people that have given so much for all of us, and it is something that they will appreciate more than a pair of socks, or a card, or a flower.
It is the gift of me. My time and my talent for storytelling. I can assume we will discuss it and then share memories that the story may evoke. We may laugh, we may cry, we may break into song. But in return for this, I know I will get smiles and hugs and encouragement. Their gift to me.
As writers, storytellers, I like to think that we have a gift---isn't this a great time to share it?
