Writing was a safe way to express myself in the abusive environment I grew up in. Reading offered examples of overcomers and hope.  When I had my own children I was determined to make sure they knew that they were loved and valued.  Honestly, it took a lot of prayer, counseling and learning what healthy relationships looked like (fortunately, I had seen some of that in books J).  When my son Ian was born, I virtually stopped writing.  We read together voraciously – reading with my children was such a great joy.  Ian died from Asthma when he was 8. Shortly before he died he said he wanted to be a writer because he loved reading so much.  A few years ago I picked up my pen again and started writing for both of us.  My writing mission is to help provide fodder for the bonding experience that is so essential to a child’s development, to help each child (person) know that they matter and have the right to dream.  Offering children the perspective of overcomers can have positive long-term impact.  Lastly, I hope to give the gift of laughter (it really is great medicine).