I remember once thinking that I would never have a message to share with the world. I thought that being born in the poorest part of town meant that you would always be there, among people who looked lost and dejected, their only salvation found in a bottle of bourbon, or, when the income tax checks came, Johnny Walker Red. But, today, I blog messages of hope for readers who find something they need or like in my writing.
I remember once sleeping five to a bed, including my aunt, her son and daughter, my sister, and me. I thought that I would never have enough dough to live any different. And I did know that different was possible, as I read in my believed books, my dearest friends then, of little girls with canopy beds who slept alone. Today, I luxuriate in stretching out across our queen-size bed, leaving room for my sweet husband, for once glad not to sleep alone.
I remember once not being able to afford the SAT test that would allow me to prove how smart I was, so that I could win a scholarship to Tennessee State University in Nashville, Tennessee, the pinnacle of success for black children from my hometown. I cried when I learned that students had taken the test, and I had missed the opportunity. I just knew that I wouldn’t ever achieve anything that I could be proud to share with others.
But, today, I am called “Doctor” by my students, and their image of me as a competent and compassionate professor matters more to me than any amount of silver or gold. The very poverty that I thought would choke my dreams and leave me penniless and dejected, too, was the impetus for creating a personality in me that leads me to always strive to be all that God created me to be.
I remember once learning from a really smart teacher that when you come to see yourself as valuable and of worth, that you will find that where you start in life does not define your destiny. From that lesson I know that no matter how big or closer are the obstacles in the side mirrors of our lives, when we accept that we are priceless and unique, we can accomplish the seemingly impossible. Just never count yourself out of the game!
Written for Tale Weaver #273: This week write your response to the notion of “I Remember Once”….it could be a piece of nostalgia, it could be a reflection on your current situation if you are stuck at home or you write where the prompt takes you. Either way, go have fun with this.