Let me be impractical!

What should I do when I grow up?
Be a doctor, a dentist?
A writer, an artist?

Be a doctor darling
They make good dough

Be a dentist my dear
They make even more!

But I’m really a writer
What should I do?
What about passion?
What about soul?

A writer?
That’s so impractical!
An artist?
That’s even worse!!
Who will pay the bills?
Who will work?

But I’d really like to write
I feel it in my bones
I’d like to write a book
That’’s my goal!

You are so young
And you have not lived!
You need life experience
You need to live

That may be
But what about joy?
When I write I feel happy
It brings me joy!

Here she goes again…
She wants to WRITE
But really dear
You SHOULD NOT write
Maybe as a hobby
Or in your journals
But please my dear
That should be all!

Money does not grow on trees
Does not come out of the wall*
You need to earn a living!
So be practical!

Lida Berghuis
Jan. 28th, 2003

*Natasha (then six years old) and I were somewhere once and she needed some money to buy something. I said I didn’t have enough money with me. She said, “but mommy we can get it out of the wall!” She was referring to the bank machines. It does look like the money is coming out of the wall, doesn’t it? white flower

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