Picking Dandelions
Just this week as I walked outside with my little girl she darted across the yard, grabbed on of the last remaining dandelions in the yard and yanked it out of the ground.
I would have mowed it down later today. But she eagerly ran over, presented it to her Mom with a wry smile (almost as if to say “I know we have done this before, but it’s just as important to me this time) and then she moved on. I will will mow down the other dandelions next week.
As I watched this all play out I was reminded of Sarah Cunningham’s book Picking Dandelions.
I resonate with Sarah’s style. She writes as if we are having coffee together rather than as if she is lecturing at Harvard from a stale wooden podium to uninterested 18 years olds. In a world where memoir is now sheik, I get the feeling that Sarah never set out to write a memoir. I think she is just telling her story.
Her story will move you and I am just betting that many of you will find a piece of your story as well. You may even look at danelions differently from now on.
I like it even more that the story does not come from yet another 20-something mad at the world and mad at the church, but from a girl raised in a good home who lost and then found her way back.
Sarah is a new friend.
She is a GREAT writer.
She is real.
Go now and check out her site, he blog and even see an excerpt from her book. Seriously now. Go.
Wow. It's Quiet Here...
Be the first to start the conversation!