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The Story Teller

The Story Teller
Jun 27, 2003
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Different



That’s what I wanted to be when I was young. I wanted to be different from the way I was, and I did my best to enlist God’s help. At 90, I see how foolish I was.



Passing a mirror on my birthday, I had to admire myself from head to toe. “You’re so slim!” In my youth I was embarrassed by my skinny frame. Now I see that my bone structure has saved me from becoming overweight in these more sedentary days. Also, back then it was said that gentlemen preferred blondes. How I wished for something other than my plain brown locks. Now, though, I’ve swung into my golden age with platinum hair. What do you know? A blonde at last---and it’s natural!



I used to complain to God about being shy. “I can’t even carry a lively conversation, “I whined in my prayers. But perhaps this reserve has kept me from babbling incessantly. Awkward and clumsy, I remember vigorously pushing doors marked Pull. I cringed when people laughed at me. Now, instead of pouting, I laugh at myself. I’m also not very good at directions, but these days, when I turn down the wrong road, I enjoy discovering new landscapes while I find my way. What’s the hurry?



I should have trusted in God way back when. He knows me better than myself. My prayers today are thanksgiving for who I am at the age I am. If I’d known 90 would be so great, I wouldn’t have stayed young so long.



By Faye Field

Submitted by Richard