She knew that one day she would accomplish her dream, if she continued to work at it diligently. Walking through the wet leaves, she stopped to look at the moss. She recalled that as a child she often played beside little patches of green moss. And even then she lost herself in reverie. Perhaps that was the beginning of her life as a writer. Daydreams are part of every child’s life, but for her they were a way to become lost in a world which did not exist, but was vivid in her imagination.
© 2014 Freeda Baker Nichols