Tell Me a Story

Children love to hear a good story. When I was young, I enjoyed sitting down with my Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme book, listening to whoever had to read to me. (I still have that book!) In elementary school, I remember reading all the books I could check out from the bookmobile at school. Nancy Drew and The Boxcar Children were a couple of my favorites. Sometimes I made up my own tales while playing with my Barbies, baby dolls, or outside with my dog. All those stories were stored in my mind to recall at a later date.

As I've gotten older I've collected more stories. Many of them aren't fanciful tales from books or movies, but they're stories of the people who have passed through my life. My mom told me about her life as a girl in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I learned a little of my dad's childhood in Millsfield, Tennessee and his adventures in the US Air Force. Since I’m the youngest of six, I listened to tales of our family before I came along.

I heard stories of the home life of my friends at school. I witnessed stories unfold before me of love and loss. College brought new people and more stories. When I began my work with children, I collected a wide range of stories - some true, some perhaps embellished, most I'm sure the parents wish I never heard!

As I filled my mental notebook with tales of others, my own story was being written as each day passed. Some chapters were only for family, some were very public, and others I've tried to keep away from anyone's eyes. Like it or not, pages are being added to my story on a daily basis.

Since Maddy’s death I have become involved with the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation. Through this group I have met many other Fire Hero Families and have heard the stories of their person. I have read the profiles of others while writing remembrance cards for the families. Other stories come to me from a variety of sources. No matter how I come to know about these heroes, the stories stay with me. I remember them as I speak to the parents, spouses, or other family. Knowing the story helps me relate on a more personal level. It keeps that person alive by remembering the story. Families want to know that their person is not forgotten.

Although I will admit that at this point in my life I sometimes forget names and dates, the story remains within me. I feel the emotion. I see it in my mind. I think of all the characters involved.

Everyone has a story. Whether it’s a pamphlet, novella, or an epic the size of War and Peace or a Harry Potter book, your life is a tale. It may be a romance, comedy, tragedy, or even a thriller, but your story is important. Every chance you get you should share it. Maybe it’s just with a friend who knows you well. Perhaps you can tell a chapter to a group who has a similar experience. When you share your story, you are creating a lasting image for others to remember.

So, tell me your story. Once it’s shared, it is not forgotten. You are not forgotten.

Who knows? I might just decide to share some chapters of my own with you.