Savoring the Honeysuckle Story
By Maureen Miller I’ve loved story for as long as I can remember. My earliest memories stem from childhood, when I was a mere tot of two. Day after day, Momma and I would swing on the front porch of our downtown-Dayton home, surrounded by fragrant honeysuckle, shaded by tall boxwoods. That sheltered space was a haven for birds, bees, and other creatures—and the story. One Momma created about a little girl and a kitten. Maybe my love for story originates from these early recollections—both the particular story Momma told as well as our surroundings as Once upon a time unfolded on that Ohio porch. Perhaps it’s something else. An intrinsic passion deposited by our Creator. Whatever its origin, such directs me—as a reader and a writer—toward stories in which the natural world is woven throughout. It’s why I love Laura Ingalls Wilder books, with her family’s adventures as farmers, their homestead on the Kansas prairie, and the sisters’ delight discove...
