Why Blog
by Sabra Ciancanelli

I remember the first time I understood the power of the written word. I had just learned to read and was thumbing through Danny and the Dinosaur when my thoughts shifted back to the cover of the book, to the name after 'by'.

"Who is this Syd Hoff?" I asked.

Mom shrugged her shoulders.

"Does he live around here?"

"No, I don't think so."

"So, he's a stranger?" I asked.

"Well I guess if you put it that way, but you kind of know him. That's his story."

The magical power words had of connecting strangers wasn't lost on my kindergarten mind. Within days I was folding paper into halves and scribbling my own books. I eagerly handed them to Mom and watched as my story unfolded in her voice.  And though it was the idea of sharing my voice that led me to the path of writing, I soon discovered what's kept me here: writing calms me, it helps me think. It brings me peace.  In many ways, it's like prayer.

I've kept dozens and dozens of journals, ones with glossy covers fastened together by latch and key that are filled with hopes and dreams,  of movies I wanted to see, places I wanted to go, all the way to a leather bound embossed journal  given to me as a birthday present from my sister Maria. I remember when I first opened it and ran my fingers on the imprinted design, it seemed too beautiful to write in, too special to fill with just anything.  Now it holds words from the most difficult time in my life, learning how to go on after Maria's death. 

In my office, in a small wooden book case, my journals are stacked like years. Now and then, I pick one up and flip back in time. Often I cringe at the things I read, how I worried about my hair so much, prayed for the wrong boyfriends,  but I always come away with a little something, a memory I'd forgotten,  recognition of a blessing overlooked.

For the last few years I've kept a blog. My blog helps me share my life, my prayers, joys, laughter and pain.  A year ago, when I was devasted with grief,  my blog and the prayers of so many that helped me through the pain.  And now, when I feel life's getting the better of me, I sit down, begin to type and letter by letter, word by word, I find my way.

It's not just my own words that shape my path, it's the comments from others, the views  and prayers of so many people that take the time to reach out by leaving a message on my blog.  Full circle, our stories intertwine.

And to think it all started with Danny and the Dinosaur.

You can read Sabra's blog, here.