A Little Girl’s Calling

Growing up in a small community in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains I never dreamed of living anywhere else. Yes, I love an occasional trip to the beach but I wouldn?t want the sand hills to be my home. Even as a small child I knew where my roots were. I had lots of dreams but moving away from Elkin, North Carolina was not one of them.

By most standards back in the early ?60?s we were a poor family and sort of looked down on by many. That?s another story in its self. One I?d rather not talk about. But I never felt poor. I always had a full stomach and ice cream money for school. When it was time to pay for class pictures and such, my daddy would fuss but he would always hand over the cash. No, I didn?t have a set of clothes for every day of the week with matching pocketbook and shoes but I had all I needed. When all the other girls in class were bringing in record albums on fun day to dance to I couldn?t, I didn?t have any. I didn?t know it then but I was learning a valuable lesson in life. Sometimes we don?t have everything we want, but most of the time we have what we need.

Just because we didn?t own a record player did not mean there was no music in our house. One of my earliest memories of home is my daddy?s old box radio. It sat on top of the refrigerator. Daddy got up early every morning and one of the first things he did was turn on that radio. Back then he listened to a country station, WFMX out of Statesville, North Carolina. Even though no one in my family played a musical instrument back then most of us had music in us. At times Daddy and Uncle Jim would set into singing and as a little girl I just knew they?d be famous one day. My Grandma Verlie always said she was ?a kin? to Hank Williams and that?s where her boys got their singing ability. Maybe so. I do know she had relatives whose last names were Williams.

As a teenager while watching country music award shows I dreamed of walking out on stage at the Grand Ole Opry and singing my little heart out. One of my all time favorite women singers is Loretta Lynn. Lordy what a life story that woman has lived. I even wrote about her in one of my novels, Guardian Spirit. I saw her at The Opry many years ago. I was sitting up in the rafters and she was only a spec down below, but I?ll never forget the feeling of being in the same room with her.

What happened to my dream of being a famous singer? Well bottom line, I can?t sing that well. Yes, I?m a member of the church choir, and I?ll even do a solo part now and then or harmonize with my siblings, but I am no singer. All who know me understand it doesn?t bother me one bit to speak to a large crowd, but stand me up in front of a group and stick a microphone in my hand to sing and my throat closes and my insides turn to mush. It makes me wonder about my grandma?s bragging. Then I reconsider this thought because my two brothers and sister sing beautifully.

I believe we all have a calling. Preachers are called to preach. Teachers to teach and singers to sing. My calling I?d like to believe is putting stories down on paper. No I?ll never be a Loretta Lynn. I don?t think it?s in the stars for me to stand before millions and accept a country music award. But that?s okay. I wasn?t meant to do that. I truly believe when characters start talking to me and I write their stories down I am doing what I was born to do. I know I won?t perform for millions of excited fans, but the dreams of this little girl are still big. Someday millions may read my books.

No, I didn?t get the gift of a fine tuned voice from Hank Williams. My siblings inherited all that talent. But I think I know where my knack for story telling came from. My Great Uncle Ed was well known for being the teller of stories in our family. He never wrote them down or made the New York Times Best Sellers list, but we?ll never forgot the tales of Uncle Ed. He wasn?t rich or famous and he never won any awards, but he?ll always be remembered because he did what he was called to do.

I still have my daddy?s old box radio. Sometimes I touch the wooden sides and turn the dial. I wrap my fingers around the plug and know long ago his fingers touched the same place. I think back and remember when I was a little girl. I close my eyes and I can hear the voices of my ancestors. Some ring through my head in song, others in story. I always knew I was a bit different. Sort of unsettled and restless. Now after all these years I know why. I was working, but not doing what I was supposed to be doing.

My daddy never had the luck or luxury of being able to follow his calling. He was a very smart and talented man but other things took control and ruled over him. Today I am blessed to be able to pursue my dream. I can only wish the same will happen for you some day. Don?t miss your calling. Use your talents so others may receive a blessing through it.