Many of my friends and readers know that this blog was started under sad circumstances: A few days after moving to Central PA (which was a mistake of fate,) I broke my right ankle on a dis-repaired sidewalk, which (lucky me) belonged to our already broke (financially) borough. I couldn’t even sue them!
The result was my confinement in bed during the Holidays of 2010.
Each event in life has many ways to be viewed; the same event could be a sad event but it could also be the opportunity of a life-time to organize my 20 plus years of writing and write that book which I never had time to write.
Clearly the second option was more appealing and because someone mentioned Word Press, like a blind woman (and one legged ) I managed to start a ‘blog.” A blog! At the time I had no idea what was a blog, and instinct guided me to click on an icon named “NEW POST,” and than when I was done on another icon, marked “Publish,” and another miracle took place, the Post was published for the entire world to see! Easy.
This is how my memoir, The Gypsy Saw Two Lives, published at the end of 2011 was born. After its publication I found myself mostly alone in an attempt to “market the book. The why so, it’s an entirely different story, which I will not even attempt to share now.
The story of today is about one of the places where I was invited to present my book. It was the book club of a church. I was, as any new author, happy and eager to share my experiences with the group of about 18 people, all women, and one man.
Being at an age when our eyes start telling us “you need glasses,” I had just purchased two pairs of glasses. I am one of the few who gets dizzy if I wear bi-focals, so I had a pair of glasses for reading and another for distance, and I kept switching them as needed.
When I read something, I carefully sat the for distance glasses next to me, and when I needed to use at the distance glasses I treated the for reading glasses with equal respect. I did notice something was written inside the handle of the reading glasses, but could not make out what it was, since these were the reading glasses… da!!! And frankly, the issue was not a priority!
Back to my book club presentation. I thought it was going well. People (the ladies) clearly read the book and were asking relevant questions. The representative of the strong gender, was clearly still finishing the book and asked or rather “taught us” some totally off the topic lessons.
The session was coming to an end. I sat on the table the reading glasses and put on the “for distance” ones, when, the key question came out of nowhere:
“Who is your hero? Do you have someone that inspires you when you write?”
Does anyone inspire me… my mind raced… hmm not really, life itself was enough inspiration.
“Not really…” I answered, not totally certain this was the expected answer.
The woman to my right looked at me surprised, her eyes pierced me, and after an embarrasing silence, I heard the echo of her voice in my ears:
“Why don’t you tell them? It’s no shame!!!”
I looked at her and as I was still trying to find my words, she picked my reading glasses and showed everyone what it was written on the inside of the left handle of my reading glasses:
I AM MY OWN HERO!!!
See, she continued, slightly upset.
“No shame, YOU ARE YOUR OWN HERO! GOOD FOR YOU!!!”
I mumbled something, as in I didn’t really know this was written on the inside of my reading glasses handle, but there was no going back.
Everyone was convinced I was so full of myself that I ordered a pair of glasses with the emblem: ‘I am my own hero!”
The group is probably still convinced of how full of myself I must be, but later, as I told the story to others, I discovered that “I am my own hero,” was the NAME of the brand of glasses I ordered and it was written on ALL their glasses.
In conclusion, you too may be your own hero and not even know it.
If that happens, be proud of yourself and take life with a grain of salt.
This is what HEROES DO!!!