Knowing all this, I still had heard her stories countless times before and really just wanted to go home. I am ashamed to admit I don’t recall much of the conversation of that day. Just bits and pieces. I was really absorbed in my own problems and worries. I kept trying to excuse myself and make my escape. I eventually made it back out to the main foyer of her home with my hand on the door-knob. Sweet freedom just seconds away. That is when she recalled that she had purchased a special loaf of bread for my wife. Knowing my wife loved this bread, I knew I faced certain death if I dared ventured home without it. As Ms. Dot slowly cruised to the kitchen to retrieve the aforementioned bread, I made the mistake of sitting in one of the rocking chairs. Spry as a housecat she rounded the corner bread in hand, and trapped me sitting there. Groaning internally, I knew I had lost my chance for escape. The discussion quickly came to be about spiritual beliefs. She referenced the council of Nicea and informed me of her belief system that she had developed in her lifetime. I won’t tell you the details. It isn’t my place or business to share that. I will say that it was very close to Buddhist philosophy.  I informed her of that. To which she informed me that: “She didn’t know how those little fellers did it over there, but it was possible that they were copying her version of Christianity”.  I shared a good belly-laugh with her and used it as my chance to excuse myself and walked towards the door. My daily interaction was over. Or so I thought.

As I opened her front door and stepped out on the massive porch, I felt her tiny hand grab my wrist. She motioned for me to lean down, and she flatly asked me why I didn’t write. I had no response. I had never even considered writing.  She squeezed my wrist tighter and told me that my voice needed to be heard. She stated that I have lived such an incredible life and that people would be interested in what I had to say. I disagreed with her. Eventually, she insisted that I just sit down and write one paragraph about how I felt through my heart-attack experience. I promised I would and ventured home. That evening I got the laptop out and did my assigned task. One paragraph turned into nearly two thousand words. The next day I took her a printed out copy of what I had written and was surprised to find she was having a luncheon with several local authors that she was mentoring. Before I knew it they were passing around my writing. They all ranted and raved about my style and prose. The encouragement came quickly and strongly from the entire group. Through their contacts I ended up contributing articles to local magazines and short stories for other writer’s books. She prodded me further and before I realized it, I had written an entire book. I will never forget the feeling of seeing my work published for the first time. It is indescribable. She then encouraged me to start a blog. Which led to a source of income. None of this would have happened without that little old lady taking the time out of her life to encourage me to take a chance on myself. Life has happened quickly since then. After I moved I never heard from her again. Nor have I taken the time to venture that far out to visit her. I often think back about how many things we fundamentally disagreed on. I am proud of the fact that even though we were different in nearly every one of our thought processes, we never once let that bother us or create an argument. We always respected each other.  I will always owe her a great debt. We are eternally linked through all the words we have written. She created a writer. I had spent many years in classrooms well before I made friends with Ms. Dot, never once felt inspired to write.  One amazing contact in life led to a wonderful life lesson which led to my life being forever changed. I will be forever grateful for her sage advice. 
