My eleven-year-old grandson came home from his last day of school in June proudly waving a certificate that his fifth grade teacher had awarded him. On the certificate, in bold letters, were the words, “MOST LIKELY TO SAVE THE WORLD.” He believed those words, carried them with him confidently in his mind and in his heart everywhere he went all summer long. Of course, only the future will tell . . . but it illustrates the point. Words matter.

When I look back at my own childhood, I realize that I still carry around words and phrases that were spoken to me long-ago; words that have shaped my perspectives, my aspirations, my work ethic. The power of words cannot be understated.

When I was in third grade, my music teacher, whose face I still recall, held “try-outs” for the third grade chorus on the stage in the cafetorium. We each had to sing “America the Beautiful” while she accompanied us on the piano. In my hand-me-down dress and worn shoes, I waited my turn, trembling, but fiercely determined. When I had finished my audition, she peered at me across the piano keyboard and said, “Close. Ve-ery close.” With those words, she sealed the fate of my music “career;” I was the only third grader in my class that did not make it into chorus that year. I was devastated. But my father, who always had deep wisdom to offer his six children (granted, some of his words were borrowed from the television series, The Lone Ranger); had always told us that anything was possible if you just tried hard enough. Thus, his insistence that for every “A” on my report card, there was an “A+” waiting in the wings – if I just tried hard enough. And so, for the next three years, I continued to audition for chorus, always to be met with the same response. “Close. Very close.” Unfortunately, not all of us are born with “the gift.” Thanks to my dad, though, I never do give up trying on the things that are important to me. And yet, those words from my music teacher still haunt me to this day. “Close. Very close.”

A similar sentiment was conveyed to me in a more doggedly positive way by a theater teacher in my summer theater day-camp. The year we staged Alice in Wonderland, I had the role of the Red Queen. One of my lines was, “It takes all of the running you can do to keep in the same place.” When our instructors signed our autograph books at the end of the summer program, Miss D. wrote in mine, “Always remember, it takes all of the running you can do to keep in the same place.” For me, those words were a blending of my old music teacher’s dire pronouncement; and the more hopeful words of my dad, establishing in me a determination that, no matter the outcome, I always had to keep trying. If something matters – never, ever give up. It is an outlook every author can appreciate as being essential to success.

Quite clearly, words do matter. As an author of books for young people, I try to be ever-mindful of the importance, and power, of my words. For words have the ability to break a heart . . . and to lift a soul. And although authors often do break hearts in the telling of an honest story, my prayer is that by the end of every piece I write, I will have also lifted a soul.