Rev. James Stapleford on writing a response to Just Write!

I Just Wrote!

Dear Martha,

It is an interesting proposition that you consider — Just Write. Most of the Chaplains that I know have written for years. They have written sermons, in-service lectures, prayers, verbatim, letters, budgets, accreditation self-studies and many more things. I myself have written several articles only to receive rejections notices or notices that what I had to say just "didn't quite fit." In addition, I find myself so busy that I don't have a lot of time to write, re-write, and then re-write what I have to say to make sure that everything is proper and in order.

I think that another issue is that most of us see ourselves as "poets" and not authors. I make the distinction here between poets and authors in the sense that a poet is more of a storyteller or seeks to know the intuitive self more than the properly written and properly footnoted paper complete with an annotated bibliography. I do think that what we miss is seeing the value of one poet writing for other poets.

So here is a short one: Grace is a Smile

I have just returned from a cruise in the Western Caribbean. I love to cruise. I love the open water, having someone make my bed, cook my meals and in general pamper me. I can overlook the checking in — along with 3000 other persons, and the disembarking - Where is my luggage? It is those six wonderful days where I have no telephone, newspaper or other distractions that use up so much of my emotional energy.

This cruise is just a little different. I have been struggling with my adjustment to a new work situation, a new living situation in a part of the country that isn't familiar, and weather that is hot with high humidity. I have not done well in this adjustment. The first days of the cruise I was trying to get there emotionally.

On the second Formal Night I was standing where they were selling Silver or Gold by the inch. You know, you buy an inch of silver for a necklace and if you buy more than 21 inches they "give" you the bracelet. As I was standing there considering whether or not I would purchase a new chain for my cross, I noticed a little girl standing there and she looked like she had lost her best friend. I spoke to her, but she shyly turned away toward her grandmother. Her grandmother said that she wanted both a necklace and an ankle bracelet. I said that they usually give you the bracelet with the necklace. However, because the girl was only about seven or eight, the necklace was only about 12 inches, therefore she would have to pay for the bracelet.

Here is where the Grandfather in me kicks in. I told the clerk that I wanted 30 inches of a specific chain. When the clerk asked if I wanted the bracelet as well, my reply was, "No, I want this young lady to have it." As I looked at the girl, I saw shock and disbelief come into her eyes. When the clerk measured her ankle for the bracelet, she was all smiles with the most beautiful dimples that one has ever seen. With her shoulder length brown hair and deep brown eyes, formally dressed for dinner in a long dress and a smile that wouldn't quit, it was a sight to behold. At that point, I wasn't sure who was most thrilled - her or myself.

At any rate, once the clerk had placed the ankle bracelet on her ankle we were getting ready to part — she ran over and gave me a big hug. At that point, I experienced Grace. There were two of us that walked to dinner, floating. I guess that we had something impressive for dinner that night. I could have eaten sawdust and it would have been okay.

On my return, people ask me what part of the trip did I like the best, visiting other countries, shopping, snorkeling, what? There is no way that I can say to them, “Receiving Grace.” It's too intimate to share.

Maybe that's the problem with writing — writing means that we poets have to share the intimacy.