When I was three years old, my dad went to war. He was my first best friend, and it was, in a word, devastating. I was riveted by evening news reports--I'd watch the entire thing--and the night that they announced that troops were coming home, I leapt to my feet and danced.
While Dad was away, we wrote letters back and forth. Indeed, for over twenty years, he kept a scribble I sent him with the note, "This is pixie dust. Use it to fly home."
Those letters back and forth really contributed to my love of writing. At the time, I was unable to write for myself, so I would scribble and Mom would translate underneath. I learned to make jokes, to convey a point, to write with a purpose, as my very dear early childhood literacy specialist of a mother would put it.
And so I have a special place in my heart for the writings of children.
Here's a page from my youngest son's recent work, If You Give a Wookie a Cookie:
Here's another example that I ran across on Imgur this week. The kid is going far!
I hope this is a beautiful Sunday for you and the start of a wonderful week. Feel free to share your favorite writing (or anything else!) in the comments. I look forward to reading it. :)