Beginnings

Learning a foreign language is like riding a horse. You just get on it, taking

the position of one who has ridden before. If you are lucky enough to have a

ranger to direct the horse, enjoy taking it slow, gradually increasing the pace as

you build confidence. However, if you are one of the unlucky ones, there is no

ranger, no one to guide your journey to confidence. In this case, be brave! Just

climb on and hold tight, doing your very best to be natural. If you fall off, get back

on again! Repeat, repeat, repeat.



When I was a child, I thought the entire world was America and the only

language was English. I spent my days wandering the woods, climbing trees,

chasing butterflies, and catching lightning bugs. I loved books! I would read the

same bookshelves of books each day at bedtime! They were my friends. I never

remember wanting a new book. I was so happy with my old worn out books.


I never touched a computer. Computers were not a thing! The closest

thing we had to it was the typewriter that my dad used to create the bulletins for

his congregations each week. But I don’t remember ever being inclined to type

even a single word on it.


My dad pastored some small churches in the countryside of North

Carolina. We were a family of six: Mom, Dad, my brother, two sisters, and me. I

was the youngest. One day, Dad came home to tell us that we were moving to

Spain. Daddy was a member of the Navy Reserves but moved to active duty to

better support the growing financial needs that our large family had. I had moved

many times before as a pastor’s kid, so I didn’t think this move would be much

different. Did I have surprises waiting for me!!

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