Storytelling is not just what I do- it’s who I am. As a writer, I believe stories are a lifeline, threads that connect generations, emotions, and truths too deep for facts alone.
My love for storytelling began in a quite ritual: each evening, my father would read to me before bedtime. Nursery rhymes, fables, and the classic books he grew up with filled our nights. I remember the joy of listening to his voice shift with each character, the way he brought stories to life with tone and tenderness. Those moments were more than entertainment-they were inheritance.
Today, I hold his childhood books in my possession. They are worn, beloved, and sacred. They are my father’s gift to me, a legacy of imagination and connection. I have continued this tradition with my own children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, passing on the magic of storytelling one page at a time.
Storytelling for me is generational memory. It is how we remember, how we heal, and how we lead. It is the heart of my writing and the soul of my work.
Alongside reading aloud, I’ve come to see writing especially through my blog-as another way to share this magical gift. Writing allows me to explore stories that are harder to speak, stories that carry deep emotion and meaning. It’s a space where memory can unfold slowly, where others can find comfort, connection, and inspiration in the words I share.
The tradition has become more than a bedtime ritual it’s a way of staying connected. Through storytelling. I’ve found a way to carry what my father gave me: a sense of wonder, a voice that comforts, and a way to make meaning from memory. Each time I read aloud, I’m reminded that stories don’t just entertain – they help us hold on to what matters.
