The Birth of a Dream (true story)

There are a great many moments in a young mans life that offer contributions to his dreams. Some more substantial than others. I write now to pay homage to one such moment in my life; a moment that first presented itself in the form of an accusation. It was over two decades ago in an overcrowded middle school on the fringe of an old desert town in Miss Froude's seventh grade English class. The assignment, a short story of our own preference and design. Oh how my mind exploded with the possibilities. My hand quivered over the pages in elation. With a white knuckled grip on my number two pencil I immersed myself in the project for almost a week before presenting my final draft with the rest of my peers. On the following day Miss Froude withheld my paper and requested to speak with me outside on the ramp of our portable classroom. I had no idea why I was being singled out until of course she started to speak to me with a grave look on her otherwise lovely face. "Do you know what plagiarism is," she said. To her surprise I smiled ear to ear and replied, "Yes." She attempted an even sterner appearance, "this is a very serious matter." But again I met her with jovial glee. She tried a different tactic and began to highlight words, sentences, and content that she believed were all beyond my meager abilities as a writer. She only made it half way through the story before it appeared that I was going to burst with delight. "Why are you so happy," she finally demanded. In the most respectful tone I could muster I said, "because you're telling me...a college educated woman...that you think my writing is so good that I must have stolen it. This may be the happiest moment of my young life." The look on her face was priceless! I thanked her and said that she would never find a matching story because she held a seventh graders sloppy original in hand. From that moment on I aced almost every English class up to my high school graduation. The funny thing is that being a writer wasn't a dream I permitted myself to have until someone indirectly made me believe I could do it. Miss Froude accidentally offered the greatest contribution to my favorite dream and I will always cherish her attempted rebuke