Posted by Glenda Barratt on Apr 23, 2019
Unlike others,  I don’t have an amazing adventure overseas to tell you about (Well I do, but that’s another story), or a foray into something that will hold you spellbound as you read.  Rather I would like to share with you a piece of self-discovery that took one person, one sentence, to help me make complete sense of my life.
 
Six months ago, I picked up the phone to ring my boss to give her a report that had taken days to write, others had completed it in a mere 24 hours.  My nerves were on edge because I had tried so desperately to condense all I wanted to say, but it was not going entirely to plan. I called and duly presented, I waited for her to say ‘get to the point’ but it didn’t come.  I apologised, ashamed that I could not give her what she wanted in five minutes. The reply that changed the perception of how I see things came quickly with a laugh and a smile I could feel down the phone. “Did you not know that you are a Storyteller Glenda?” – “You tell me what I need to know and more”. “Some need many calls and gentle coaxing, others need mentoring to give them permission to make mistakes or to grow, your story gives me a picture I can see straight away, that is a gift”.  That caused me to think but it also gave me a relief you may not understand.
 
A writer loves words, a story teller feeds on the knowledge of what others will gain from what is being said.  That is me in a nutshell. It is not enough to be lead, I prefer to lead.  The touch and feel of a book, or the pages that are written within, are far more satisfying than anything digital can provide...for me.
Have you ever sat and witnessed something so beautiful, or something that touched your heart in such a way, you cried.  That is the start of a story and just like me, you can become the Story teller. Write it down in any way you can and then share it.  Tell your story.  Let people know who you really are.  Give them an insight into what makes you, you.  Many years ago, I was involved in a fostering programme that saw my husband and myself take twelve young people to Camp Wainui to live in semi wilderness for a weekend. Being in the bush amongst nature and all it has to offer, stirs the poet in me.
-------------------------------------
Streaming warmth upon my face, as I sit astride these steps and gaze upon God's wondrous work of beauty far beyond my words, that leaves me speechless.
 
I smell the colour and feel the growth of newness in the ground.  I watch the prayers of arms outstretched and feel the power of age and grace, that leaves me humble.
 
I listen to the silent words of wisdom clear and strong, and marvel at the unheard conversation guiding me to understanding, that leaves me knowing.
-----------------------------------
Intonations in words, whether written or text, can often be the catalyst that causes your story to take on a different meaning, and will require careful listening to ensure the content is as it was intended.  Believe me, I have often had to make a quick phone call to clear up a misunderstanding that need not have occurred had I chosen my words carefully.
 
Whimsical poetry, or storytelling, is just as important and the following is a favourite of my grandchildren and a pertinent end to this editorial.  Suffice to say each of us has a ‘teller’ of some description inside of us waiting to be heard.  The question is, “Are you game enough to let it be seen”.
---------------------------------------
 
“How uncanny” said Mrs du Fanny “that the earth is said to be round, yet the roads that we walk on are veritably flat and there’s not an edge to be found.”
 
“And isn’t it true” said Mrs McBlue, “that the rainbows just over the hill, yet the closer I get to touching the colours, the further away it is still.”
 
“Oh, that’s not so scary,” said Mr McCleary, “just look at the birds in the sky, how do they stay up there with nothing to hold on to and why is a fly called a fly?”
 
“Well that’s not so silly” said Johnathon Tilly, “I’ve heard of a stranger one yet – how can an animal be half this and half that when it’s only one body we get.”
 
“May I ask you one more” said Millicent Bore “that confuses me night and day. Why is a butterfly not called a flutterby when it’s surely the correct thing to say?”
 
“Well the World’s not so simple” said Ernie Dalryimple, “those questions will always be here, ‘cause things are just things as everyone knows and they stay with us year after year."
-------------------------------------