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When I was five or six years old, my sister Beth would give me all her old used composition school books. You know, those black and white one's? I loved to carefully trace over top of the cursive writing with an ink pen. She had written all her words in pencil, and it gave me a sense of accomplishment and power to "finish" them. Well, I don't do that anymore, but I still love words and writing, even more now. I used to think that they were for me, but I have found that they are not at all for me, really. They are a treasure that I wish to share with others. If I can inspire you with my words, then I have fulfilled my calling.
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