Quote Me

 It is the final ten hours of 2012 where I live, and, as is common at the closing of a year, I sit here under the glow of my Christmas tree lights and contemplate what has transpired.  It has been a rollercoaster year on a personal level, having shared many smiles and alternately having shed my fair share of tears.  I do not doubt that my knees have hit the floor more often than ever, assuming the humble position of offering up prayers on behalf of my family, my country, and myself.  Despite the challenges, I feel an overall satisfaction with what I have accomplished in a mere 365 days.  But one attainment was an unexpected surprise.   

By recommendation from a wonderful friend I was introduced to Goodreads.com—more specifically their author program.  The site has proven an immense help in promoting my first self-published book, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue.  Among the many tools Goodreads offers, there was one in particular I fancied—an area for author quotes. 

It is no secret I love quotes.  I collect them, share them, cherish the most meaningful to me.  Quotes possess emotive power, including an incredible ability to inspire and teach in brevity.  So given the opportunity, I began listing my own original quotes on my author page at Goodreads, never anticipating what would happen next.

Have you ever searched your name on the internet just for the fun of it?  Simply to see what pops up?  One evening not so long ago I googled my name wondering what would surface.  As expected, a list of my blogs appeared.  There were links to sites for purchasing my book at amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com, rosedogbookstore.com, and other places.  It was a hoot finding my book for sale in the UK and Sweden as well!  But then other links arose associated with my name.  Links to blogs, websites, and Facebook pages of complete strangers.  Huh?

I clicked on a few and scrolled the pages to try and make sense of why my name would be linked to an article on the ocala power plant?  Or the Radzik Report?  Or moneyrules.com?  What in the world?

Imagine my shock when I discovered my own quotes included in these articles, my name mentioned!  I called for my husband to come quickly and see.

"You gotta see this!  My quote is in the Radzik Report!"
"How did it get in there," he asked, taking the laptop to read the article for himself.
I shrugged and shook my head.  "I have no idea."
Scrolling down the page I pointed out, "The guy even says he has my quote hanging up in his office!"
"That's pretty cool."
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"  I chuckled at a thought.  "Wouldn't it be funny if my quotes were known before my books?"

Well, funny or not, I have since found my quotes popping up all over the internet on Facebook pages, Twitter, news articles, quote sites.  Every time I do a search on my name and discover another one retweeted I smile.  Who would have thought that written words authored by me would find appreciation enough to be shared?  I am astonished to find my name listed among well-known individuals like Oprah Winfrey, Robert Frost, Abraham Lincoln, Ray Bradbury, Benjamin Franklin... 
It's exciting.  Surprising.  And humbling.

Yes, I have accomplished many other noteworthy things this past year, but I wanted to share this in particular because it was a completely unexpected gift.  Moral of the story?  Set goals for this new year.  Move forward.  Do and achieve.  Be productive.  Because you never know what sort of unforeseen success might come of it!

Below are links to articles that include one or more of my quotes, just in case curiosity impels you to check out a few.  I do not guarantee for how long the links will be good.


http://www.quoteidea.com/authors/richelle-e-goodrich-quotes

https://www.pinterest.com/beepavon/richelle-goodrich-wisdom/

http://www.bestquotes4ever.com/authors/richelle-e-goodrich-quotes-2

http://internal-acceptance-movement.tumblr.com/post/35357289879 http://dawnbarclay.com/having-the-courage-to-dare http://www.reporterherald.com/lifestyles/health/ci_22005274/gratitude-helps-health-and-happiness http://cdidriksen.femelle.no/2012/12/02/fem-fine-pt-45/ http://www.knauit.com/quote/richelle-e-goodrich-52 http://simplereminders.com/authors/richelle-e.-goodrich http://itsamoneything.com/money/richelle-goodrich-wealth-make-friends/#.VxrDROIrIqM http://soulwritings.wordpress.com/2012/07/05/my-thought-for-today-43/ http://southwestdesertlover.wordpress.com/2012/11/23/appreciation/ http://thesecretkeeper.net/2012/12/05/need-haiku-5/ http://virginiasvoice.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-spirit-of-christmas-2012.html?m=1 http://m.fanfiction.net/s/8516134/11/The-First-Casualty-of-War http://musingsonfantasia.blogspot.com/2012/11/thoughts-for-thursday-13.html?m=1 http://www.poweredbyintuition.com/2012/11/21/thanksgiving-15-quotes-to-make-gratitude-a-habit-everyday-plus-a-video/ http://topfamousquotes.com/richelle-e-goodrich-quotes/ http://blog.reallygoodstuff.com/31-quotes-to-bring-the-spirit-of-giving-and-joy-to-december/ http://doina-touchinghearts.blogspot.com/2012/12/quotes-about-giving-present.html?m=1 http://www.lightworkersworld.com/2012/11/spreading-simple-silent-spontaneous-social-service/ http://weeklydevotionals.wordpress.com/2012/12/24/devotional-for-december-30-2012-christmas/ http://ellasedge.blogspot.com/2012/12/blog-post.html?m=1 http://bryantmcgill.com/20141021235519.html

About Christmas

     At this Christmas season I find much in the world to sorrow over.  But at the same time, I realize that darkness has not overshadowed everything.  There is still an abundance of goodness performed by human hands; kind, humble acts that offer light and comfort to those who choose to see and acknowledge these sweet and quiet deeds.

     It is no secret that a gift I consider dear to my heart is the magic of storytelling.  I am inspired by how time-and-again the reciting of a simple tale effectively hushes a room, how it draws out a smile on somber lips and adds a curious spark to the eager eyes of listeners.  I love stories.  I do.  And so, as a gift as well as a small addition to good things in this world, I post this Christmas story for all to read.  

     Through my window I see the first star of the evening, which I pause to make a wish upon. A wish for worldwide longing to live peaceably, for softened hearts among all nations, and for the jolliest spirits to attend to us this Christmas season.

     Be good.  Be nice.  Be happy. Enjoy this Christmas story.

About Christmas

-Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons

Dedicated to my children.

My identity is not important—age, gender, or ethnicity. The year and circumstances make little difference either, other than to know it was a cold Christmas night when this miracle occurred in my life. And though the memories are distinctly mine, vivid and unforgettable as if years had never passed since their transpiring, I sincerely hope through this retelling of events you will acquire every thread of understanding I gained in a remarkable moment of truth.

It was cold enough to snow, yet warm enough to melt every flake that touched the ground. I sat outside on my front porch, bundled in the warmest wrap I could find. Inside, the sounds of merriment tickled my ears—a celebration of Christmas among friends and family. I was missing their exchange of homemade gifts, having put no thought or effort into the task. Christmas didn’t thrill me like it seemed to for so many others. And as I sat in the darkness staring up at the twinkling aura of a particularly bright star, I wondered for what reason exactly this holiday existed.

I pulled the wrap more snugly around my shoulders while contemplating a string of traditions practiced yearly at this time. What was the big deal about observing silly rituals? Why the extra jollity and efforts this time of year?

What was Christmas all about?

I’m not sure how to explain what happened next, only that everything seemed quite natural in its occurrence. The shimmering star that had locked my eyes upon it—a celestial light I knew to exist far, far from my world—suddenly changed perspective, appearing within my sight as if it hovered above me at an arms throw. I blinked a number of times thinking my focus would return to normal and the star would once again hang sensibly in the heavens. Instead, every flitter of my lashes produced a change in the star that revealed with decreasing brightness a male figure centered within the light. He was beautiful beyond description—white, radiant, and smiling down upon me. The thought occurred that I had passed on to the afterlife. Perhaps unawares to my conscious self, I had frozen in the cold and suffered death. Was this radiant being God?

The man’s smile broadened as if he found amusement in my thoughts, and I worried he could actually read them. Anxiety made me sink lower, pulling the woolen wrap up over my hair. The blanket warmed me, and so I doubted I was dead.

“Fear not,” the man said in the softest voice ever to caress my ears. “Your prayer has been heard.” I assumed then he was an angel. To think God would personally come for me was a highly vain notion.

The smiling messenger reached out his hand, and I stared at it, wondering how light appeared to radiate from every inch of his skin. It turned out he stood even closer to me than I had first perceived. I blinked again, disturbed by the way distance seemed an incalculable thing in my eyes.

“Fear not,” he repeated. “Take my hand.”

Stunned by all the unusualness there was to perceive, I asked, “You heard my prayer?” My forehead tightened at the idea. I didn’t recall offering a prayer.

Suddenly, his radiant palm was pressed against my chest. “In here,” the angel explained. “He knows all your heart’s desires.”

I wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to the glowing touch of an angel or the knowledge that God actually knew me, but a warmth beyond any physical source consumed my chest. All my fears dissipated.

Again a hand was extended to me in offer, and I took hold.

As inept as I had proven myself at perceiving distances, it seemed time and travel also elected to bewilder my senses. For I knew we were in motion, and yet my discernment was of the world revolving around me and my heavenly guide. A whirlwind of chaos encircled us, slowing within a blink to a nighttime sky. I noticed one difference among the stars—a brighter light shone above the others, penetrating the darkness more effectively than any star I had ever witnessed.

“Christmas,” the angel breathed, following my gaze upward.

“This is Christmas?” I wondered. “Is this what Christmas is about? A star?”

The angel smiled. “Not entirely.” He continued to look up.

“Is it about Heaven?” I asked, broadening my guess.

He flickered a glance at me with his beautiful, bright eyes. “Not entirely.”

I watched him as he watched the heavens, the two of us still holding hands, for I was afraid if I attempted to sever our bond I might fall to the ground which we presently hovered above. It wasn’t my intent to gawk at him, but withdrawing my eyes proved a difficult thing until something more amazing than a celestial companion lured my focus skyward again.

Singing, rich and harmonic and penetrating, affected me first. Such beautiful carols I had never heard before. As my eyes swept across a choir of angels, I held my breath in awe. They were singing hymns of joyous praise. Carols of a newborn king—the Christ child.

I listened silently, my heart affected so profoundly as to bring tears to my eyes. The whole time my guide squeezed my hand, beaming. It wasn’t until the choir began to fade that I noticed a meager audience of sheep and shepherds gathered beneath them, witnessing what I saw.

Then we were all at once standing among the shepherds, mingled in their numbers as if we belonged with them. I could understand their acceptance of me, being wrapped in a woolen blanket that resembled their draped attire, but I knew not why my companion received no incredulous looks. Perhaps because of the messenger angel above?

“Fear not. For behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

After a final chorus of praise, the angels went away. I was sad to see them go, to have their inspiring music no longer permeating the atmosphere. Naturally, I sighed at such a stark loss.

My glorious companion sighed likewise. “Ahhh, Christmas.”

I nodded. “Is this what Christmas is about? Singing carols and songs of heavenly praise?”

The angel smiled kindly at me. “Not entirely.”

“Is it about the message then? Is Christmas about heralding Christ’s birth?”

I was given another patient smile. “Not entirely.”

We separated from the shepherds, our feet touching the ground now, taking steps on a dirt road. I felt secure enough to let go of my companion’s hand. He released my fingers readily. Our walk remained quiet; hushed but for the nocturnal sounds of herding country. I pondered the things that had transpired—the message delivered by heavenly hosts to humble, poor shepherds willing and ready to hear. This was the first Christmas. This was Christ’s birthday. What else would Christmas be about if not Him?

I had taken a few steps beyond my angel guide when I realized he was no longer at my side. Turning back, my eyes opened up, aroused from my deep, inner reflecting. We were standing in the shadows of a lowly stable. Stone, wood, and straw were arranged as shelter for docile animals. A small light shone from within, sustained by a single candle. I squinted to make out two silhouettes that appeared joined. Mother and baby.

I couldn’t help but ask, whispering, “Is it Him?”

The angel nodded, his smile tempered by reverence.

“This is the first Christmas,” I said, making sure my understanding of events was correct.

The angel nodded again, concentrating on the newborn child.

“Christmas is about the baby, Jesus.” I declared.

The angel’s smile reappeared as a result of my certainty. “Not entirely.”

I crumpled my brow, frustrated, but a large shadow distracted my attention, appearing from the back of the stable. A man approached and knelt beside the mother and child. His arm fell gently around the woman, his free hand careful to cup the baby’s head. He leaned in to kiss his wife. The picture touched my heart.

“Is Christmas about family?” I asked.

I mouthed the echoed response. “Not entirely.”

My eyes flickered from the forms beside a manger to my companion. It was strange that his brilliance didn’t light the darkness within the stable. But what hadn’t proved strange thus far? I was about to question his definition of “entirely” when the scuffing of collected footfall caught my ear. I twisted my neck to find strangers approaching—shepherds in rags and sandals followed by men garbed in finer, richer fabrics.

“The wise men?” I guessed.

My companion nodded.

I watched as the visitors cautiously approached, waiting for permission from the stable’s occupants to come close enough to witness the Christ child. I wanted a closer look myself and followed the others across a carpet of strewn straw. I watched the wise men kneel to place gifts at the mother’s feet. She appeared truly grateful.

“Is Christmas about gifts?” I asked. It was a holiday tradition spanning the ages, to be sure.

“Not entirely.”

The mother, a pretty young woman, held up her baby for all to see. His features were glowing in the candlelight. He was asleep. Adorable. He appeared so tiny and fragile, snugly wrapped in a single blanket.

“He came to save the world,” the angel told me. “To suffer and die for all of us.”

I nodded, aware of the truth.

“Is that what Christmas is about?” I asked. “Christ’s purpose? His suffering and death?”

There was no smile on the angel’s face when he turned to me, only gravity in his eyes. “Not entirely.”

I sighed. What in the world was Christmas about then? I thought of the few Christmases I had celebrated in my own lifetime—gathered around family, singing carols, exchanging gifts, retelling the story of our Savior’s humble birth, rehearsing by heart the angel’s tidings of joy to the shepherds. Was this not what Christmas was about?

When the others stepped back, I knelt before the new mother, questioning her with my eyes as to whether or not it would be okay to touch her child. She smiled with understanding and held him out to me, offering the chance to cradle the babe in my arms. I couldn’t make myself do it. To hold my savior was a privilege I was unworthy to accept. I yearned, though, to at least touch him. With a trembling reach, I let my hand fall gently against his cheek, so soft and warm. I feared for a moment my touch might be too cold, but the baby stirred and turned his face toward me, his little nose nuzzling in my palm. I exhaled raggedly and chuckled at this. My breathing stopped entirely when his eyes opened up.

He looked right at me.

I couldn’t turn away, even when my sight blurred with tears. His tiny fingers moved to wrap around my one, clasping on. Behind him, I caught his mother’s smile as she assured me, “He loves you.”

I bawled like a baby at her words because I knew they were true. His life, his actions—they proved it to be so.

It took some time to regain my composure before I could speak again. My companion waited patiently for my eyes to dry. He was nodding before I even asked the question.

“Is Christmas about love?”

“It is.”

As my angel guide departed to take his place in the heavens, I found myself once again seated on the porch outside my own house. I looked up in time to catch a shooting star. The laughter of friends and family carried to me from inside. Rising to go join them (wondering what the chances were they would believe my miraculous story) I heard the truth proclaimed in the quietest, piercing voice. Words of a loving Father. Words I resolved that very Christmas night to forever abide.

“For I so loved the world that I gave my only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Love one another, even as I have loved you.”

Second Round A Success!

 Thank you to everyone who came by Fae's Books & Crafts last weekend in support of my second book signing. It turned out to be another rewarding event, giving me the opportunity to scribble my name and a thoughtful message in a few more copies of my book. And thank you to the sweet staff at Fae's for their help and hospitality.  They had a table and chairs set up by the door waiting for me.

Sold and signed eight books in the first hour! 

 

A few added touches to attract curious shoppers - Poster, chocolates, a nice pile of books,
and don't forget the homemade bookmarks to hand out!

 

A choice of bookmarks;
Queen Eena or Naga the Dragon


 

Would you like a piece of chocolate?
How about a bookmark?
Let me tell you about my book...




   


Friend, Karen, poses with me
Thanks for purchasing my book!



Friends, Cherise and Jackie, stand on
either side of me for a picture. 
Thanks so much for stopping by, ladies!

     
 

I would also like to thank my precious mother for spending the first hour by my side.  (Conveniently forgot to get a picture of her.  Hmmm.)  Nonetheless, it was a delight having you there, Mom.  Love you!  

Gratitude for Another Book Signing

So here I sit at my computer, snowman earrings dangling from my ears while Christmas music plays in the background.  My middle son celebrates his birthday this evening with a slumber party and the whole bash.  Next weekend is my youngest son's birthday.......whoa, pull on the reins, Rudolph, one day at a time!  Tomorrow my oldest boy will finish his Eagle Scout project with four hours of community volunteering for another good deed.  And, as if I don't have enough reasons to make a list and check it twice, I will have the pleasure of participating in my second book signing tomorrow afternoon at Fae's Books & Crafts. 

Life is a whirlwind of activity.  You gotta smile.

Anticipating some very busy days these last few weeks of 2012, I feel happy.  And I feel extremely grateful.  Life never ceases to change by degrees - little events, small details, tiny steps - all of them adding up.  Yet it's easy to overlook this when squinting to concentrate on the big elusive goal that seems so far off in the distance.  I've learned that dreams don't consist of just the finale; the culminating apex; the last act or end result.  Dreams are more than reaching some pre-determined pinnacle. 

Smile and repeat after me.....

"Remember this - the journey is part of the dream.  Whatever it is you're chasing, so long as you are actively moving in the right direction, the dream is coming true."

Every step you take forward is living the dream.  Stop squinting at the horizon!  Open your eyes wide and take a good look around.  Great things are happening, daily!

I personally may have only small successes to count at the moment, but I appreciate them.  They are my successes and have moved me closer to the ultimate goal that directs my path.  I thrill at every new 'like' on my author Facebook page.  I wonder at new followers on my Twitter account.  I smile when new readers attach one of my quotes to a website.  Though the numbers are few, I'm touched by the fact that they even exist......and for me!  Can you believe that I have fans?  Okay, I know, it's only eight legitimate Goodreads.com fans, but I, me, silly old Richelle has fans!  

I love it!  I'm so thankful that even on the tiniest scale I'm living a dream.

And I will continue to count with amazement:
-  the 40+ people that like my most-used quote
-  the 8+ people who consider my writing good enough to call themselves a fan
-  my 12+ followers on Twitter
-  the 46+ Facebook users who 'like' my page
-  the many friendly faces that kindly appear at my book signings
-  the youngest reader to manage through my story (8yrs!)
-  the 45+ times I've signed my book for a wonderful someone
And so on........

Tomorrow is my 2nd book signing.  (Yes, I am counting!)  I hope to increase the number of books that bear my scribbled signature, and I hope to see many familiar, smiling faces.  I know without a doubt that the happiness I've found in pursuing this dream of mine, though it comes in tiny steps and small numbers, would be non-existent without such incredible support.  Because of wonderful family and friends I have so much.  My heart is filled with gratefulness. 

Thank you, 
Thank you,
Cu Rahntaco,
And, Merry Christmas too!