Speaking Through the Written Word

When I was young, I was painfully shy. I was the youngest of five children and lots of kindhearted teasing took place in our family. I know they loved me dearly and didn't realize how uncomfortable they were making me. A sudden question asked where all attention was focused on me was torture. Someone verbally teasing me caused my face to flame.

Early on in my life, I had an experience that taught me to speak up. My maternal grandfather owned a restaurant on Chevrolet Avenue by the General Motors plant. I can still envision Grandpa's place of business.

Up front by the cash register were two big glass cases that held an assortment of candy bars and gum. Behind the cash register against the mirrored wall was an array of cigarettes, cigars, and chewing tobacco in tins. Beyond the cash register, a counter with stools extended to the rear of the building. Six round tables with four chairs encircling each filled the rest of the space.

There was a stairway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom over the restaurant. Those two rooms were rented out to two gents that worked at the Chevrolet plant. My Mom cleaned those rooms every Friday, taking the bedding home to launder. She was paid $2.00 a week. I had to go with Mom when she cleaned the rooms because the other kids were in school.

Of course, I was fascinated with the candy cases. They looked as high as a mountain to me. Grandpa asked if I wanted a candy bar. I was so shy that I just twisted and turned and kept my head down, shrugging my shoulders. I would have been thrilled to have any of them! Grandpa told me that when I could tell him what kind I wanted, I could have one, and he turned and walked away. Lesson learned. When he asked me the next time, I quickly answered, "Milky Way."

That was definitely a learning experience, but I was too young for it to have any lasting effect.

The most humiliating thing I ever experienced was at Dort School when I was in the sixth grade. One day our teacher announced that each student had to get on stage -- alone -- and do a "talent" act. I was terrified, even to the point of losing sleep over it. In a group, I was fine, but to get up there alone, I just couldn't do it. We had until the end of the school year to do it.

The teacher would have a few students each day do their "act." Some were eager to do it, so she took volunteers at first. When that base was depleted, she started calling students by name. When my name was called, I said I didn't have anything ready.

That continued to the very last day of class when she announced that anyone failing to take part would not pass. So I did it. Shaking like a leaf, face red as a beet, I squeaked out a popular song of that day entitled "Rosalie." It was a horrible rendition by any standard, and in my entire life, I don't believe I've ever been so humiliated. All these years later, I still remember the words to that song.

Forcing someone to do that defeats the purpose, but that teacher had a mission, and it was her way or no way if you wanted to pass. It was a long journey overcoming the fear of speaking before an audience, and I believe I conquered that myself, not by a well-meaning teacher who coerced me into it.

I started out with baby steps. I was taking piano lessons and our teacher was having a Spring Recital. It didn't bother me at all because I knew my music well and was confident I would have no problem performing it. And I didn't have to say anything.

I was invited to be a model in a style show at church. I accepted. The dresses, suits, hats, shoes and furs were furnished by the lady's stores in downtown Flint. Again, I didn't have to say anything and it was a lot of fun spending time with the other ladies that were models.

When asked to do something, my answer was "Yes." I chaired a Bible Study at church, our golf league, and bowling league. A friend invited me to help do a Bible Study at a nursing home. Again, I accepted. It wasn't giant steps, but it was a step forward.

My biggest challenge was as a member of the FAITH team at church. We went out in teams of three and presented the Gospel message to people who had visited our church. The first semester, I was a member of the team. The second semester, Pastor asked me to be a Leader, and even though concerned about presenting the Gospel to strangers, I accepted and found that I could do it.

My greatest pleasure is expressing myself with my pen. When I was 92 years old, I wrote my memoir. I sent my manuscript to a Christian publisher. They had three judges read it and they voted to print. My second book was written when I was 95. Both have been well-received. I have found my voice! It's speaking through the written word. I'm ready to rest on my laurels.

Arlene Curns is an author, encourager, and matriarch of a family of 44, spanning five generations. She is enjoying life in northern Michigan surrounded by family and friends. She can be reached at estimada27@aol.com.