From the Heart
Once upon a time …
Everyone has a story. For the past almost 13 years you have been reading about mine. I love words and I love the written word.
My love of writing began in junior high when I had Mr. Purvis for literature and creative writing. He introduced me to the fun and challenges of taking simple sentences and enhancing them with creative descriptions.
A woman wakes up in the morning and begins her day with coffee. With a few enhancements it becomes …
She awoke to the sounds of harmony in the songs of the birds that beckon her near her bedroom window. She feels the cold tiles on the kitchen floor that help to awaken her from a long summer’s night sleep. She had been tucked into bed with the humming of the needs-to-be-replaced ceiling fan. She sips her coffee, relishing in the sweet taste that reminds her to take time to enjoy the little things.
It is with these words and phrases a rich story can be written, one that captures the thoughts and translates them into visuals for the reader.
Mr. Purvis introduced us to the writings of the classics. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer became real characters because of the imagination of Mark Twain and his writings.
To Kill a Mockingbird allowed us into the lives of Atticus Finch and his daughter, Scout. We began to understand exactly what prejudice and bigotry meant to those who were targets of them. We felt the hurt. We shared in their anger.
The written word can evoke so many feelings. We picture the characters and scenes in our mind and we are transported into the story.
We anxiously turn the pages wanting to find out the rest of the story. As we turn the last pages in the final chapter we feel a sadness as we don’t want the story to end. A good writer leaves us wanting more of the story.
Each week I am challenged to write what I am thinking. Honestly, it is often scary. For 13 years I have shared my thoughts, my opinions and my life, but mostly my heart.
I had no idea some 50 years ago when I sat in that tiny, windowless room in what is now Noblesville East Middle School that my words would matter. I had no idea anyone would ever want to read what I would have to say.
Mr. Purvis’s encouraging words are still heard in my head as well as my heart. I hope he would be proud of me and could know how much I appreciated him and his teaching.
I wish every student could be blessed with a teacher like Mr. David Purvis. He taught us to crave the stories of the classics. He taught us just how important words can be. He had a gift when it came to teaching. I am one of many NHS grads who were blessed to be assigned to his classes. We didn’t care what he was teaching. We just wanted to be there.
You see, Once Upon a Time in the late 1960s and early 70s a shy (yes, I once was just that) young girl dressed in wide bell bottoms and thick wedged heels sat in a classroom and was taught creative writing.
She was given the assignment to write a story … and she is still writing it.
Thank you Mr. Purvis!