I was nine years old, hiding out in a big galvanized steel grainery (and from my chores) with a bag of red Twizzler licorice, an RC Cola and a copy of GONE WITH THE WIND by Margaret Mitchell, borrowed from the book mobile that came to our tiny town twice a month. Despite living on a sheep ranch in Idaho, my mind strolled underneath massive oaks with gnarled limbs dripping with Spanish Moss. Not even my mother hollering from the kitchen door, “Kellie Rae . . . have you fed the bummers yet?” could penetrate that imaginary world.
Yes, later I’d get in a bunch of trouble for ignoring her. But, I couldn’t pull my eyes from the pages of that epic story. The baby lambs were going to have to stay hungry a little while longer, because Atlanta was burning and Rhett was helping Scarlett flee home to Tara.
I fell in love with the South that afternoon, dreaming of large white plantations and gentile women in hoop-skirted dresses. I wanted to be Scarlett . . . I wanted to be a Southern Belle!
Likely, God was smiling that day . . . knowing what he had planned ahead. Could I ever have imagined I’d grow up and be a NOVELIST? Or, that I’d be invited to join the SOUTHERN BELLE group of writers? (okay, so I don’t get to wear the flowing green dress and bonnet, and I live in Texas. Technically, these writer friends of mine say that’s still the south and I’m going with it. Besides, I ate grits for breakfast last week, and that more than qualifies me as a Southerner!)
So, tell us in the comments . . . what marvelous plan have you seen played out in your life that you never could have imagined?