Since early childhood I can
remember the telling of personal and family stories as we sat together at
dinner, or afterwards on the front porch watching the sunset on a warm summer
night. In our family my
father was the greatest storyteller, primarily because he shared so much family
history with us. These
years of listening and absorbing family stories greatly influenced how I
related family history to my children and grandchildren.
A
couple of years ago the art of storytelling was brought to my attention. What a surprise to learn that
storytelling was an art! My
Dad had been telling stories all my life. If he were here today I am sure he
would have enrolled in the Storytelling Institute. Now it has fallen to me, as the next
generation, to carry the banner and keep storytelling alive in our
family.
No
matter how long you may have practiced something there is always room for
learning and subsequent growth. With
the first class a realization of how much this art is a part of my life began
to emerge. There was the
telling of personal stories to my family as we sat around the table after
dinner, and there is the telling of stories as we travel on long road
trips. Thoughtful reflections
also revealed the use of storytelling in my sermons and in my teaching.
How
awesome is this! Of course
I love these classes because they are a part of my past that is now being
taught in schools. It is
akin to seeing the important times in your life unfold in a classroom. This art form is an integral part of
my life as it uncovers memories of days gone by and allows for the sharing of
these memories from generation to generation. It keeps the joys of a simpler time
and place alive in my heart. To hone the skills and keep story telling
active in our family has now become a calling for me.
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