This I believe…as a woman, I have no better inspiration than the women who have helped shaped my life and values. Don’t get me wrong, I love the men I have been so privileged to know. I need them in my life – my father, my brothers, friends and my future husband (whoever he may be). I love the power, intelligence, and humanity of men – and when all of this is wrapped in compassion…O, how beautiful!
However, nothing touches my soul like the spirit of a true kinswoman. It does not matter from which time period, location or nationality either. Being a natural people watcher anyway, if a group of diverse women are congregated somewhere I’ll stop and take a slow look around. I wonder at their lives and histories. It makes me so proud to see our distinct beauties and physical differences.
So being proud of my sex (and yes, I do have a badge somewhere), I cannot think of just one person whose influence was life changing because by and far, there are just too many. Like my beloved first grade teacher, Mrs. Zurbregg, who had the best hugs. Or even when I see a momma wrestling with her babies and taking care of her business, I say the sisterhood prayer, “Go on, girl.” Or like funny lady, Carol Burnett, of whom I remember thinking what a great job she had – making people laugh while most of the time cracking her own self up. How I wanted to be Dorothy skipping along the yellow brick road in Oz. She was a brave little girl in a big, strange place.
How did Madame C. J. Walker, the first American woman millionaire, really succeed? Did she have a plan or did she stumble into it? Where did Rosa Parks’ bravery come from? Did it lay dormant like a seed and sprout at just the right time or was it gradual and step-by-step? If Jane Austin or Emily Bronte were alive now would their books spark a revolution and the nerve of romantics worldwide or would we dismiss them as just some more Harlequinesque-type writers? I know I can’t get enough of their gentile and subtle word pictures. These two women are the first authors I remembered by name. I have always loved to read, but when I read their books, I began to love to write.
Lastly, and most importantly, there’s my own mother. When very young, I recall looking up at her thinking that she has got to be the fiercest woman in the world. Now that I am not so young, I look over to her and tacitly think the same.
Ultimately, looking at these examples make me question facets of my personality. What can I do to ensure that when I am called that I will answer. I want to be able to answer. This is what I really do believe – that because of these dear women, I will no doubt be willing and able to do so.