A Trip Down Memory Lane

My mom and I were going through some things in the garage when she stumbled upon a beaten down box. She opened it up and pulled out a huge book. Inside were awards, accolades and letters from my years in school.

The book was quite intimidating, especially in comparison to my younger brother's. My parents handed down humor, charm, and likability to Zachary. He makes friends--and sustains friendships--far better than I do. He can easily entertain a crowd without much effort. And he's been hired after every job interview he's ever gone on.

My parents, in turn, passed along to me book smarts and the competitive need to always be the best. Neither of our personalities are better than the other. They are, simply, unique in their own aspects. While I can hang an award on the wall to show my achievements, my brother can hang a picture of someone who he fondly calls 'lifelong friend'. Though born into the same family, we are as different as night and day. And so are our talents.

As I was looking through old pictures and papers, reminiscing about the past, I came across my first published work in the 2nd grade. I opened the cover of the book (created in Mrs. Dillworth's 2nd grade classroom) and laughed when I read the 'About the Author' section I wrote at 8 years old:

"Jessi Samson was born and raised in San Marcos, California. She lives with her parents and has one brother. She illustrates all of the pictures that go with her stories."

I think from the very beginning I've always been a writer. It became even clearer when I read the lovely story entitled, "My Dog and the Cat Next Door." In this hilariously honest story, I made sure to mention that my dog liked to 'destroy the backyard' and that I had affectionately named 3 of the 4 kittens given birth by the cat next door, 'Funky, Spunky and Monkey.'

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

I laughed until I realized that those years--those defining years of my youth--were gone. They would never come again. They were lost somewhere in the past. And though I'm not interested in going backwards, I am--and will always be--enamored by the young version of myself who, in her first resume written at 6 years old, wanted to be a 'model' who did commercials and movies instead of the writer/teacher she is today.

No, I no longer want to be a model or tv/movie star. As I have grown, I have found a different passion entirely. My journey was altered too much to ever dream of being those things I once aspired to be. And I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful that God stole my attention. I'm grateful that I found a job that allows me to teach, share and learn. I'm also grateful I've never stopped writing.

I'm no longer the young version of myself that envisioned herself performing for the rest of her life. But my recent trip down memory lane has left me feeling nostalgic. And eternally thankful that my path has led me here, today, to the place I never knew I wanted to be.