Ever wonder what it takes to be a writer? I have.

Especially since that’s what I’m trying to do, be a professional writer, meaning actually be paid for what I do. I do need to eat after all, and pay bills, and would like to continue traveling and experiencing life outside of my home. I would like to actually use my degree in journalism too, since I worked pretty hard paying for it.

Beyond all of that, I simply, can’t not write.

Soon, I will begin blogging about my experience of shifting from professional homemaker to professional writer, giving you the inside scoop of the birthing of my book. Two words can sum it up, “grueling fulfillment.” But, I can’t leave you there. I am a writer. I must say more, and oh, there is so much more.

For now, I give you the following story:

“The Best Banana Ever”

A couple weeks ago I was browsing fruits and vegetables at Perrine’s Produce Stand in New Smyrna Beach when I heard a voice say, “I like tomatoes.” I glanced down at the little blond-headed girl next to me, and then I looked all around. No one was near. She was speaking to me.

“I like tomatoes too,” I said.

“I like the little ones,” she continued. “They squish in my mouth. That’s the best part!”

“Yes, that is a good thing,” I said smiling.

Then I heard a mom voice instruct her to pick out her fruit so they could get to the beach.

With her mom’s prompting, the little girl, who looked to be around six or seven, fluttered around here and there, carefully inspecting fruit, all the while contemplating her choices to anyone willing to listen. In the middle of her decision making, she briefly stopped to pet a customer’s small dog.

“I like dogs,” she said to the dog’s owner.

Of course you do, I thought as I continued to smile.

Finally, after much contemplation, the little girl settled on one banana. With her mom accompanying her, she stepped up to the register like a seasoned shopper, opened her little purse, and carefully counted out enough coins to cover the cost of her prized fruit.

“Bye,” she said to the cashier after completing her transaction. “I’m going to eat my banana at the beach today.”

And with that, she lifted her banana off the counter as if it were a newborn baby, and headed out into the sunshine, leaving trails of her own sunshine behind.

OMG!, I thought. How is it that a child can go to a produce stand (not a candy store or toy store mind you), and act as if she just visited Disney? 

That little girl’s full-on presence in her day positively affected my day. When I left with my bags of produce, I felt like I had just visited Disney. Only my magical moment was absolutely free.