
I distinctly remember mom inviting my siblings and I to the living room. We were anxious for a new activity. Now assembled, she instructed us to collect something quiet to work on while she read aloud from "The Book of Virtues" by William J. Bennett. I dashed down the hall, darting into my bedroom for a piece of paper.
The time mom carved out for us was sacred. Upon re-entering the living room, she was comfortably resting in the rocking chair, book in hand, while the remainder of my siblings strolled in. I sat before the coffee table, eager to try my new set of pencils. All sense of time disappeared. My mind relaxed and began to intuitively draw while listening to a narrative that was continually unfolding.
It was there, under the sound of my mother's voice, that my love for art flourished.
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© 2020 Sandra Murphy | Creating with ♥ from Chattanoga, TN.