Of Organdy, Sunflowers, and Guitar Strings

After listening to the Missionary speakers at Refuge Baptist Church in Red Hill, Alabama; I was so enthralled with their stories of the people of Africa and the hardships they endured daily, I was consumed with the desire to help when I became an adult.



Coming home on those inspired Sundays I would tell my mother of the exciting things I learned about Africa and my plan to become a Missionary. Knowing my aspirations to be a writer, she encouraged me to go and write a book about my life there, she would be so proud. I was twelve years old.



As children will do, I assured my mother I would write a book about my life in Africa. That promise, having been made before the journey even started, has gone unfulfilled until now. These poems have become my Africa and the lessons I would have tried to teach had I gone so long ago. I am praying this book of poetry will be the bridge to my dreams of writing her that promised book.



I did not become a Missionary, never been out of the states, and only short, telling pieces of my life have ended up on paper as prose or poetry. These are not stories of Africa or anywhere far away, but right here, day to day life, personal, and yet universal in so many ways.