Way back in the day, a 13 year old girl could walk herself home in the middle of the night from a babysitting job three blocks from her house. Can they still do that? Do 13 year old girls still babysit?
Well, way back then I was 13 and walking myself home from a babysitting job three blocks from my house, when I had an epiphany.
I wrote letters when I was growing up. Mom insisted. Dad had escaped the Midwest with all of us in tow, so all our relatives were 2,500 miles away, wanting to know how we were and what we were up to. Especially Mom’s two older sisters, Sis and Dorrie, authentic maiden aunts who lived with their mother all her life, and together all of theirs.
Strangely enough, they were not crazy cat ladies. In fact, their living situation didn’t seem the least bit peculiar to me.
Many thanks to Lindsay Nell of Home, Hugs and Huskies for nominating me to take part in the 3 Day Quote Challenge. (What’s a community without a chain letter or two?)
Storytelling has been part of humanity since the beginning of language. From oral histories handed down before the development of written language (still a big part of most families around the world), to scary tales around a campfire, to scifi and fantasy, fables and fairy tales, romance, adventure, and mysteries, we seem to have a genetic need for stories.
Each kind of story has its own purpose. Some end with a moral, some with a twist, some with an inspiration or call to action. We’re happy if they just entertain us, but if they touch us more deeply, they become part of who we are.