Never underestimate the power of a story.
I have more tales than I can count, in my inventory.
I’ve heard them told so many times, I should know them all by heart.
On both sides of my family storytelling is an art.
First there was my Grandpa, whose stories never ended.
Just as it was winding up, his story was amended.
I try to tell Dad’s stories. Most are favorites of mine,
But I usually crack up, before getting to the punchline.
“How many guys work for you?” The question made Dad laugh.
“I’m not really sure,” he said. “But I think it’s close to half.”
Though Mom could tell a story, the ones about her are the best.
She was outspoken, quick and witty… and by far the funniest.
They’d ask, “Can you keep a secret? She’d say, “Not even for one day.”
She said they always told her… their secret, anyway.
Gus tells stories too, when we’re all reminiscing.
But everyone can’t talk. We need him for listening.
Brother Billy knows all the good ones… and tells them perfectly.
You know the story’s over when he laughs and slaps his knee.
The stories I like to hear again
are those that start…remember when
Passed from one generation to another,
They make us feel part of each other.
Jesus taught his children through those great stories we call parables… another story category.
No, never underestimate the power of a story.
The photograph is of my Mother’s family. LB: Jeff Sanderson, Grandpa M.E. Sanderson, Wayne Sanderson…FL: Grandma Mary Sanderson, Ella Leckey, Helen Haverberg, Loretta Gustafson, and Elna Miller. They are all together again. What a beautiful and remarkable family to have been and continue to be a part of.