I grew up with stories. My mother told me stories about what life was like growing up during the Great Depression. Dad told me stories about growing up in the same era but under very different circumstances. My grandparents told stories. Those stories were a part of my growing up, certainly, but they also provided deep insight as to who my parents were and what they were made of, giving me a foundation to being building on and a reserve of power to return to. Though, in my growing up years, I appreciated the lessons in their stories, it was many years later before the real power of story was shown to me first hand.
A family member was ill and losing hope, giving up and going away mentally and emotionally. It was very frightening and painful to watch a vivacious, bright and shining flame begin to flicker and fade. During this time, I found a book in the Library, a book of short stories about a woman's life, and after reading it, decided I had to mail it to my failing mother. This skinny little book, ordinary happenings of daily life, no story longer than a page and half including illustrations, 112 pages written by a woman from another era and in a geographical area both so vastly different from my mother's, made a connection. A connection from heart to heart, across the country and through the ages, a connection which changed my mother's life and gave her back many more years.
Everyone has a story, and every story matters. I promise. That is "The Heart of It All"
Come, let me tell you a story ~~Nancy Elliott
Through the spoken or written word, in music or arts & crafts, storytelling brings us closer together, sparks the imagination and waters the seeds of personal growth, healing and enrichment.
It's pretty darned entertaining and wonderfully memorable, too!
By encouraging and inspiring people of diverse age, culture and experience to share their story, I aspire to establish a self perpetuating garden of historical, cross~cultural and generational understanding and appreciation.