A dear diary
©2008 Belle Curd
A long time ago one Christmas, my mother gave me a five-year diary. She must have known I liked writing and now I had my very own book to write in every day. At first I started out enthusiastically but occasionally missed a few days. No problem. I’d catch up or maybe write more than space allowed for each day. I had fun embellishing the pages with odds and ends from school. I shared my secrets, thrills, accomplishments, tears, and the mundane thoughts of an adolescent. Amazingly, I still have that old diary, tattered and torn though it is. I have been keeping a diary ever since, thanks to that precious gift my mother gave to me.