Sitting around awaiting my turn to speak at the It’s Your Time Women’s Conference, I reconnected to the moment I fell in love with writing.

On the coffee table were containers full of pens, each with four colors of ink and a cigar-width barrel to accommodate the options.  To the supplier of these pens, the writing instruments were advertising specialties – giveaways – but to me, they reminded me of when my love affair with writing transitioned from puppy love to something much more enduring and passionate.

I don’t know whether Mrs. Owens had something in mind or simply made a busy-work assignment so she could grade papers, but her assignment to a room full of seventh-grade students at St. Cecilia’s has truly affected the rest of my life.

The writing assignment was to describe something in the room.  After a bit of searching, I opted for the pen in my hand.

The pen was a giveaway, an advertising specialty (though I did not know the term at that age) that my dad had brought home for me.  It was tan, with advertising text on the side.  The metal collar had lost its sheen to the touches of its owner.  Abundant teeth marks revealed the habits of the pen’s somewhat nervous writer who used it daily.  The assignment became easy as I noticed details on the pen and then used it to complete the descriptive writing task.

I fell in love that day, with writing.  I found another voice.  I wished Mrs. Owens was still around to tell her.

Funny thing, I have no idea what grade I received. It didn’t matter.  I had fallen in love with writing.  The container of pens reminded me of the moments and the life of writing that followed.  I’m glad that I saw the pens today. It is good to remember when you fell in love of any type.