I had written a story for my journalism class, the night before. It happened to be about Michael Jackson. I think it was my best yet. I was nervous about reading it aloud as I usually did for my parents. I didn�t know what they would think.
If it had been bad, or if it had been good, they would have loved it because that is what parents do.
In the end, they loved it. It wasn�t fake, it was real. My mother started talking about my future and how I could even get an internship at the Bradenton Herald. I stood in shock since I have never believed such a concept.
The whole time I was thinking, Me? A good writer? As if.
At that point I realized something. I have never been told I was an amazing writer in this diary, but I have been told I am a good writer when I write journalism stories. Not just by my parents, but by my journalism teacher who has written for the Bradenton Herald. When my journalism class was interviewing me for a project, and when I talked about writing, I just saw that lady smile as if she new something I didn�t know.
It was as if she new I would make it far.
As my dad and I were talking he said something to me. Danielle, you have a gift. You have been blessed with such a talent. You are an amazing writer. Don�t take it for granted.
I won�t, daddy. I promise.
-danielley
� Danielley
