I was in the barn that had inspired Charlotte's Web because, a few years earlier, I had been reading E. B. White's collected letters when I ran across his reply to a letter from schoolchildren: "I didn't like spiders at first, but then I began watching one of them, and soon saw what a wonderful creature she was and what a skillful weaver. I named her Charlotte."
White followed the maxim taught in most writing workshops: write what you know. There was a barn. In the barn, there was a cellar where White kept pigs. There was a rope used as a swing. And there was a doorway where spiders lived and spun webs. E. B. White wrote Charlotte's Web out of his personal experience. That's why the book seems so truthful.
I always try to be truthful in what I write, whether it's an essay, poem, short story, or blog post. Even if that truth is difficult. I haven't avoided my struggles with my wife's mental illness or addictions. I haven't avoided writing about my own addictions, either. Truth isn't always pretty. E. B. White knew that. That's why Charlotte, that skillful weaver, dies.
The truth of my life, at the moment, is that my wife and I are struggling quite a bit with finances. That car repair on Monday sort of killed us economically. We have lots of bills to pay, and, literally, no money to pay them with. This evening, my wife and I talked about the situation. We're heading back to the Salvation Army food pantry tomorrow. We're choosing what to pay and what to put off. This evening, we received an automated phone call from a utility company. My five-year-old son listened to the message on the answering machine and said, "Don't call them back. They are just wanting to take our money." That depressed me a little bit.
I'm trying not to feel sorry for myself tonight. I'm not into self pity. There are a lot of people in this world who are a lot worse off than me. I'm just being truthful. On this cold Tuesday, I have difficulties weighing on my mind. Difficulties that I don't have much control over. I need to let go and let...
Dear God,
It's me again. I know, I know. I need to have a little more faith. I can hear Your voice in my ear: "Trust Me. Relax. Things are going to be fine." Of course I know that. But I'm not feeling very confident about the future right now. In fact, I'm a little depressed.
So, I'm simply asking for confidence this evening. Give me some peace of mind, some hope. Some cash wouldn't be bad, either.
Your loving servant,
Saint Marty
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| E. B. White's real barn |
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