Tuesday, January 26, 2010


I am from construction paper, from Big Chief Notebooks, and Grandma’s lemon drops.

I am from the big corner lot house with decorative paint, secret dirt alley trails, and old, metal play ground swings

I am from the spirea bushes mom transplanted five times, and the sawdust from dad’s work shop

I am from water skiing on choppy waters and campfires, from Jeff and Marcia and pet cats.

I am from the stubborn, and patient.

From “I worry you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.” and “Always remember to thank others”

I am from Bible reading, teaching, and memorizing.

I'm from the Great Plains and the small towns of the mid-west, Grandma's chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes

From the only girl with divorced parents in town, the boy who had the right family name in town, and the grandparents who were pillars of the community in town.

I am from St. John and Stafford Kansas where wheat fields dance in the wind. From Lake Wilson where the waters were as rough as the rock cliffs surrounding it, from family-friendly campsites with souvenir shops around the country
This "I am From..." poem is being sponsered by e-mom at Chrysalis. To read e-mom's "I am From..." poem and others click here.


  1. Awesome! I loved it. You really gave me a taste of your childhood. What's fun about this poem is understanding how different we all are... yet how similar in Christ.

    I'm sorry: "...the only girl with divorced parents in town" I can relate. :~D

    Thanks for jumping in, Jaime.

  2. This was a beautiful way to paint us a picture of what produced the beautiful, tender YOU you are today. Beautiful job.

  3. Great post! Thanks for willing to be vulnerable. It is beautiful

  4. Beautiful, tangible images, Jaime!

  5. Hey Jaime...this is very beautiful! Your a gorgeous person! Enjoying getting to know you! xxx

  6. Nice picture you painted, even of the parts that didn't feel nice at the time you went through them. Thanks for sharing!

  7. Hey, I like what I see here! I had to drop by and visit after your comments about running through the sprinklers on campus over at Bronny's blog. How free and happy that seems!!

    It saddens me that the long term drought in Australia might mean that my daughter grows up without knowing how much fun running through sprinklers is :(

    I'm now following...

  8. I must tell you all, the "the girl with the only divorced parents in town" is my mother. She moved to my home town when she was in the 5th grade and at that time, our small town didn't have "divorced" people. In high school she and my dad started dating. It was quite a scandle that "the boy who had the right last name in town" would date someone who came from a divorced family.

  9. I just loved this poem. Your references to Big Chief notebooks, spirea bushes, and Grandma's lemon drops took me back in time to a time I really miss. I enjoy all your poems immensely, but this one brought back memories.

  10. So, were the five transplants all in the same yard? Couldn't make up her mind? :-) Or from house to house because she loved them so much?
    from Jen @ www.diaryof1.com