Last week, I wrote about the fiery tongue. This week I am writing about the burning pen. While not a part of the body, it is still an instrument of power and pain that is controlled by the brain (hopefully). I learned a difficult lesson about the pen early on when I tried to publish my own newspaper.

It was the 5th grade and I wanted to be a famous newspaper reporter. Maybe it was because I had a big crush on Superman. If I was a reporter, maybe he would notice me. So, here’s what I did.

I wrote my own gossip column. I spent a considerable amount of time typing on my grandfather’s typewriter, using carbon paper between 4 or 5 pieces of paper. There were no copy machines when I was in the fifth grade. I did this several times to produce about 15 final “newspapers.”

The content was fantasy created by my vivid imagination. It was full of undocumented details about which little girl loved which little boy – so pre-teen!

I took the finished products to school and placed one on each subject’s desk; quietly and unobserved. I sat back and waited to see my classmates’ reactions.

To say that I was disappointment is a large understatement. I remember how angry everyone was about what I had written. To make matters even worse, Sister Mary Frances, our teacher, was also the school principal. Someone showed her the one-page newsletter and she called me on the carpet.

Rather, into the hallway, where I listened to one of the sternest lectures that I have ever received. She called me a “bold, bold girl” and warned me that if I didn’t change my ways, I would be headed for real trouble. No positive comments on my ingenuity and resourcefulness for producing such a fine piece of writing were given.

She concentrated on pointing out the dangers of putting into print information that was untrue or harmful to the people mentioned. Spreading gossip and false information, creating situations that are not real can cause significant damage to the affected individuals. This kind of damage is difficult to correct. Sometimes, the damage and innuendo last for a long time.

I had to swallow my pride and apologize to my classmates. Some thought that it was funny, but others were quite put out by the assumptions that I had boldly put into print. My parents were not impressed either.

This event made a lasting impression on me and my attitude about writing and publishing or mailing. I cannot tell you that I have never made this judgement error again. However, the warning has colored my thinking for all times. I have learned to be more temperate; I can write down what I want to say and tear it up or throw it away.

It was a grace, undisguised and given freely by God. God who still loves me unconditionally. Just as He loves you unconditionally, too. Read Matthew 12:33-37.

Terri