Isa stared out the window gloomily. Snow was falling, but she would not join the other kids in playing today. Her aunt, Millie, was stirring up a batch of potatoes across the room.
“Aunt Millie?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I’m smart enough to write books someday?”
Millie smiled and brushed a stray curl out of her face. She put down her spoon and came to squat down in front of Isa.
“Isa, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to promise me you’ll never forget it.”
Isa nodded. “I promise.”
“You know how much Billy loves playing football?”
“Oh yes,” she giggled.
“He’s not very good, is he?”
Isa shrugged. “Not really, but he’s only five.”
“But someday, if he practices a lot and sticks with it, he might grow up to play really well, huh?”
“Sure…if he practices.”
Millie reached over to poke Isa in the stomach, making her laugh.
“It’s exactly the same with you, Isa. You can be anything you want to be. You just have to stick with it.”
Isa nodded, looking back out the window.
“So how do I practice to be a writer? Daddy says I’m not very good.”
Millie sighed and followed her niece’s gaze outside.
“You don’t worry about that, okay? Your daddy says things he doesn’t mean sometimes.”
Isa continued to look at the window where her brothers and cousins were building a snowman.
Millie stood up, brushing off her pants.
“Listen, Isa. Why don’t you go play with the other kids? They need some serious help with that snow…thing.”
Isa laughed and grabbed her coat.
“Okay, Aunt Millie. I’ll help them.”