from the desk of mary batson: author, speaker, storyteller, and apple butter fan   
 
 
 
...about Going Home

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Going Home chronicles Mikey's story, a finding-myself journey
with a homespun twist and just a dab of apple butter

Home...

~~ We spend all our lives going home in one way or another – coming home inside ourselves, coming home from school or work, finding our first place, starting a family, or, in the end, depending on your belief system, our final Going Home.

     We go through the same stages on all these travels. We plan our trip, pack our bags, pick our map and traveling companions. We start, we finish, and in between we head off into the wild blue yonder, hope in our hearts and a light in our eyes. Along the way, our adventures are surprisingly alike, as are the emotions they stir. Each is merely a reflection of the others. Our ideas of home are all the same, too, if we’ll only open our eyes wide enough to see.

     Five-year-old Mikale Ann, nicknamed Mikey ‘cause she’s a tomboy, has a better memory than most children. And her grandma, Gran, is smarter than most grown-ups. Going Home opens on Gran’s front porch as the two write together about these journeys, then blossoms into something else entirely as a grown-up Mikey finds the unfinished manuscript years later, long after Gran has passed on. Clipped to the front is a note: “Now you can finish our book.” As she reads the pages and starts to complete them, Mikey begins to remember Gran’s guidelines for going home.

~~~

     Going Home speaks in many voices, from the precocious tones of five-year-old Mikey to Gran’s more tempered wisdom. A third voice enters as a grown-up Mikey finishes the pages, now a little older and hopefully a little wiser.

     Listen as their voices blend. Can you tell them apart? Or do they, in the end, become One, just like you and I?

~~~

     So now, sit back and relax, close your eyes for a moment, and remember the last time someone special read you a bedtime story. Picture yourself there now: Blanket tucked beneath your chin, favorite teddy near, light dim, breath slowing, belly relaxing in the warmth of a familiar bed… eyes searching for the pictures, then closing, ‘cause you can see the pictures better with your eyes shut...

     But wait: Don’t forget that last drink of water! One more bathroom run… where’s Teddy? OK... now that you’re tucked back in bed and ready to turn the page, sink down... blanket up... one last kiss... close your eyes... and listen to the voices of Gran and Mikey as they tell their story.

Chapter 1
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