TED Conversations

Linda Hesthag  Ellwein

Communications, Change, and Photography, Oikonomia, Inc.

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Do you have a story waiting to be told? Bring your inner storyteller and tell us a tale.

Stories weave themselves together over time and magically become the gloriously rich tale of a full life. Telling them brings the most mundane tasks or simple memories alive, reminding us how colorful and vibrant living actually is. Best of all, it allows us to see another layer of each other.

Will you tell us one? It can be random, made up, from childhood, someone else's, about your kids, a moment with your grandmother, lost love, a quirky or funny moment, poetry, a chance meeting, something that hurts...anything at all. Perhaps you wrote a story in your mind about someone you saw on your way to work, or it's the dream you had last night. Maybe it's found in a picture you recently took. It can be 10 words, 200 or haiku. We all have a story waiting to be told :)

I shared one, now it's your turn. Give it your best shot!
(If its long, just add another post in reply to continue.)

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    Nov 3 2011: The Little Boat My Daddy Carved For Me


    The hull is chipped and slivered.
    The rudder's almost gone.
    The sail is worn and ragged,
    There's no mast to hoist it on

    It didn't really matter
    that it didn't float quite right.
    While it’s laying on my pillow
    in the dark of night.

    It is shaped a little funny.
    It didn't steer quite straight.
    It isn't real fancy,
    it was made for hauling freight

    Take all the bright and shiny toys,
    the kind you buy in stores.
    Just let me keep my wooden boat;
    it hasn't any oars.

    We took a load of gold aboard,
    from each pirate ship we sank.
    We saved the maidens from their fate,
    the black hearts walked the plank.

    Adventure came on every tack
    and many a storm we rode,
    and beat the tides and every shoal,
    'til we anchored to unload.

    It 's only just four inches long,
    but sturdy as can be.
    It served me well and served me long
    on every seven sea.

    I hope that where my daddy is,
    there's a block of wood around
    and oil to keep his jack knife sharp
    And a stone to hone it on.

    I hope there is a little boy
    who's watching happily.
    'cause Dad was always at his best
    when making things for me.

    I hold it now that I am grown,
    I hold it tenderly,
    I hold it dear, this little boat,
    my daddy carved for me.

    By
    Vic Johnson
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      Nov 3 2011: Beautiful, Vic. Makes me tear up. Have you been writing poetry for a long time? It sounds like you have...
      Clearly, this one is from deep within your heart.

      Btw, there's a man here in Idaho who passed recently, by the name of Vic Johnson. He's a legend in these parts. :) One of the original cowboys...

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