of daffodils of daisies.....

I am trying to write something useful that would contribute to something..... well useful.

I used to write a lot when I was younger. A passion instilled by my second grade teacher Mr. Hopkins in Kent. In his classes he used to make us express our senses in detail. He would give us a candy for instance, and tells us to describe the process of eating the candy from the time we open the wrapper, popping it into our mouths, taste the sourly and lemony hard candy as our amilase enzyme (saliva) began to relinquish it. I remember it so vividly, as he aided us in the process, by reminding us of the sound that the candy makes as it rolls over our tongue and bumps into the awaiting teeth. As the candy slowly dissolves, suddenly I felt a burst of sweet sugary lemony on my tongue. It was amazing. I have eaten those candies so many a times, but never have I experienced it in such a way.

Mr. Hopkins always brought us the feel of wonderment, poked at our curiosity, urge us to pursue it. He explains ever so patiently and with heart. In spring/summer, he brought us apples from his garden. And I remember having our science class outside under the huge castanian tree. His class was so special. It had its own library, and a backroom which stores our own musical, art and science stuff. Mr. Hopkins will always have a special place in my heart. To this day, I still send him Christmas cards.

Now, I am not able to express it as well as I used to. I remember when I used to write all the time, and dreaming that one day, I may become a writer.

I still have that dream.