Terry Helwig's Blog - Posts Tagged "love"
The Power of Story
Maybe Mama was right. “Never judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.”
Since the publication of Moonlight on Linoleum: A Daughter’s Memoir, people have been pulling me aside and quietly telling me about their childhood or the childhood of someone close to them. I’ve heard about the family of a coal miner with ten children living in a cabin without electricity and running water; a refugee who was sent to a concentration camp; a sister addicted to prescription drugs; a son who never heard the words “I love you,” and a husband who survived great hardship and decided, like Tom Robbins: “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
Recently, a member of a book club wrote me: “Everyone loved the book. It generated some amazing conversation about our own childhoods, and a lot of revelations about each other through the conversations. Someone even commented that it was probably the most connected we had felt at book club. I've known some of these women 20 years and learned some new things all because of Moonlight!”
I’m discovering that listening to one another’s stories is often the doorway to love and compassion. Indeed, when we slip our feet into another’s shoes (which memoir allows us to do), we feel with and for the other. A son’s sorrow becomes our sorrow; a daughter’s triumph our triumph. Such is the power of a human story—written or told.
Note: If your book club is reading Moonlight on Linoleum: A Daughter’s Memoir, you can find discussion questions at http://www.terryhelwig.com/discussion...
Since the publication of Moonlight on Linoleum: A Daughter’s Memoir, people have been pulling me aside and quietly telling me about their childhood or the childhood of someone close to them. I’ve heard about the family of a coal miner with ten children living in a cabin without electricity and running water; a refugee who was sent to a concentration camp; a sister addicted to prescription drugs; a son who never heard the words “I love you,” and a husband who survived great hardship and decided, like Tom Robbins: “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
Recently, a member of a book club wrote me: “Everyone loved the book. It generated some amazing conversation about our own childhoods, and a lot of revelations about each other through the conversations. Someone even commented that it was probably the most connected we had felt at book club. I've known some of these women 20 years and learned some new things all because of Moonlight!”
I’m discovering that listening to one another’s stories is often the doorway to love and compassion. Indeed, when we slip our feet into another’s shoes (which memoir allows us to do), we feel with and for the other. A son’s sorrow becomes our sorrow; a daughter’s triumph our triumph. Such is the power of a human story—written or told.
Note: If your book club is reading Moonlight on Linoleum: A Daughter’s Memoir, you can find discussion questions at http://www.terryhelwig.com/discussion...
