On the banks of the Savannah River in Savannah, Georgia is a statue of a young woman waving a towel in the air. At her side stands her faithful collie…the two of them watching for ships as they look out to sea.
As the story goes, this young girl lived in a remote cottage by the sea with her brother, and out of loneliness began waving a handkerchief to welcome ships as they passed. Soon, the incoming ships began blasting their horns in tribute as they sailed by her. As time passed, she began greeting the ships at night with a lantern as well as with her handkerchief during the day. As years went by she began waving a towel to be more easily seen. No one knows why she did it, but whatever the reason, she greeted an estimated 50,000 ships over the course of 44 years.
I was as enthralled by her story as most people are…what dedication she had. What tenacity. What pluck. She kept doing something for 44 years and it didn’t benefit her in any tangible way.
Wait! This woman should have been a writer. If she had enough fortitude to stand, day or night, rain or shine, feeling good or feeling lousy on a bluff and welcome anonymous ships, she surely would have had the fortitude to get up every day and face a blank screen on her computer. If she could settle for a blast from a ship’s horn as her recogition, surely she would thrive on the compliments of friends. Who needs fame?
She wouldn’t have let a little thing like writers’ block stop her. She would have fed the collie his breakfast and headed for the computer to do her work no matter what. So, what’s wrong with me? Why is it so hard to follow through when I’ve made a good start? Why can’t I write THE END at the bottom of the last page…and really mean it?
Oh, little girl waving a towel, wave some inspiration my way. Help me write EVERY SINGLE DAY even when I don’t feel like it. Remind me that giving up is for people without a dream.