Writer's Workshop - Where I am from

Writing Prompts:

Choose a writing prompt from the list provided that inspires you most.

Write.

Go over to Mama Kat's and paste the URL from your post into the list of links that will be displayed…this way anyone can click on your post thumbnail and head over to your place to see what you wrote.

Writing Prompts:

1.) Your crazy in laws.
2.) Where I’m From poem. Copy this template and fill in the blanks.
3.) Share a family favorite childhood recipe.
4.) A time you felt wronged by a teacher.
5.) Your top ten Fall Fashion favorites.

WHERE I’M FROM

I am from shoebox dollhouses, homemade doll clothes, and imagination, from  Mrs. Beasley and Little Kiddles.
I am from the too small, rented duplex, with the white washed rooms, from Harry Street and bear feet.  From dirt alleys and sandboxes.
I am from the gravel driveways, the prickly, pokey saguaro cactus landscapes and the shade trees growing tall and strong in the back yards of my friends.
I am from singing at the top of my lungs off key and out of tune and stubbornness, from Grandma Gunder and Granny and Grandpa Chlarson and from Shirley and Lynn. I am from Pioneer stock.
I am from the laughter with my brother and my sister, from the tears when we got into trouble, (seemingly, way too frequently).  I am from hopes in a brighter tomorrow and from fears that my life will never change.  I am from the wonder of childhood, and the ecstasy of growing up.
From "you're too fat and "do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro".
I am from bits and pieces of many religions and from finally finding my place at last, not just in a religion, but in a life.  In a life that puts my Savior first and teaches me to walk with Him.  It is welcome change for being blown back and forth and moment by moment.  I am from loving no matter what and in sneaking out my bedroom window to go to church.  I am from changing my life from a sad, lonely existance to those things that matter most of all. I am from hurt and pain, and grace and forgiveness.
I’m from Oregon and England, Tamales and oatmeal cake.
From the time my brother and I drank water from the mudpuddle while playing cowboys and indians (and became very sick!), and the babysitting box that I made for myself with toys and games for the children that I took care of when I started earning my own money, and the nights when I tried to help my sister quit sucking her thumb by giving her mine instead.  (Sadly, that did not work for her). 
I am from the pictures kept in a small cardboard box inside my mothers safety deposit box, to the pictures in the two sticky photo albums of my childhood and the one photo album that I made with my own hands when I was in seventh grade.  In it, I placed the only five pictures of myself as a child that I have today.  When I see them, I see parts of me that look just like my children did, and my grandchildren do now.  It reminds me that I am just a little bit, in them, and they are from me. 
I am from a hard life, but one in whose cycle I have managed to break and not carry on.  I am from strength and courage and faith and hope.  I have become love, with feelings that bubble up and out and fill the hearts and lives of those around me. 

I am also linking up with Bigger Picture Blogs for Writer Me.  Come join us with your own rendition of Where I am From!