Dear , 

I've had the great joy of witnessing this week's featured writer, Linda Whitesitt, craft her grandmother's lyrical, imagined "memoir," Hope As Wide As a Prairie Sky, into being, poem by poem, week by week in one of my Under Construction classes.

This meticulously researched book about Linda's Swedish immigrant ancestors and, in particular, the homesteading hardships of her grandparents, is written in the voice of her grandmother, Gedia. The value, and necessity, of community in keeping hope alive is woven throughout its pages, rich with vivid description that brings Gedia and her husband Elof's experiences to life.

"With Maureen as a trusted guide, what started as a project to write
a few poems about my maternal, Swedish-immigrant grandparents
morphed into a book, a “memoir” I imagine my grandmother
could have written about their lives."
 

Featured Writer

 

Meet Linda Whitesitt

A few years ago, I began my latest book with the question: Where can I find hope in dark times? I knew at once whom I should ask—my grandma Gedia. She and my grandfather Elof, prairie homesteaders in southern Saskatchewan and eastern Montana in the opening decades of the twentieth century, faced one hardship after another and never lost hope. How did they do it? Surely, she would tell me. But I had a problem. Grandma’s been gone for a long time. There was no way to ask her. Then it occurred to me. Of course there was. She helped raise me. She played with me and taught me how to read. She lived with us, and I spent all the days of my childhood with her when my parents were working. I knew I carried her story within me.

So I started to write. I read family journals. I remembered my mother’s stories about her childhood. I scoured historical sources. I made a pilgrimage to their homesteads in Minnesota, Saskatchewan and Montana. Through all my writing, I listened for the voice of my grandma Gedia, the woman who helped raise me. 

Now several years later, my book is finished. Actually, it seems more like grandma’s book, the story she could have told about blistering cold winters and crop-destroying summers, the tragic deaths of three of their children, and the withering poverty of the Depression. It’s the book I imagine her writing. Because she never did, I wrote it for her. And knowing her like I did, I wanted to fill every page with her strength, her love for my grandfather, and the resilience that comes when hope never dies.

You can connect with Linda on her website: 
https://treestories.net.

 

What Linda says about WordPlay

I am filled with gratitude for a series of amazing synchronicities that led me to Maureen and her “Gift of Memoir” class in 2014—a gift from the universe that helped me find exactly the teacher I needed when I was ready to find her. (Thank you, Barbara Linney, writer and “Under Construction” class member, for leading me to this wonderful mid-wife of stories and words!)

With Maureen as a trusted guide, what started as a project to write a few poems about my maternal, Swedish-immigrant grandparents morphed into a book, a “memoir” I imagine my grandmother could have written about their lives. What a joyful, labor of love it has been! Every bit of it shaped and encouraged by this master “spinner of words into gold."  Maureen’s wisdom and insight, her writing tools and prompts inspired me to ask questions about how my grandparents lived and how much they loved, and nudged me into finding just the right words to tell their story.

Maureen is a “spinner” of one more thing, something that might be even more valuable than gold—a strong, supportive community. Week after week in her classes, she weaves together a group of writers whose spot-on suggestions led me closer to my grandmother’s voice. In the desolation of the prairie, my grandparents depended on their family and friends to give them strength and comfort. In my “Under Construction” classes, I know that my fellow writers do the same for me.

 

 Featured Writing
 

a poem from

Hope As Wide As a Prairie Sky

by

Linda Whitesitt

 

Warming a Homesick Heart

 

Mama and her family survived their first winter

by sharing memories of Sweden—

 

Their last Yule with meatballs and sausages,

rice pudding and lingonberry relish served on

 

a table covered with newly spun white linens

and a straw harvest crown in the center;

 

homemade candles lighting every corner;

the scent of juniper and evergreen branches

 

strewn on floors scrubbed clean;

a freshly cut tree decorated with handcrafted ornaments;

 

the joy of linking hands with friends and neighbors

as everyone walked to church on Christmas morning.

 

The double wedding of Mama and her sister Klara,

the brides in mother-made gowns with long white veils

 

held in place with golden crowns;

the men in tailor-made suits and new shoes;

 

Papa’s failed attempts at dancing with his new bride;

daily banquets at a week-long wedding feast.

 

Mama was desperate to hang on to

the laughter their words kindled.

 

She’d expected a brutal winter,

but not how strong the prairie wind could blow,

 

not how, without remorse, it whipped the cold

in and through everything in its path, lodging itself

 

stubbornly in her house and in her body.

She’d been ready for hard, bone-wearying work,

 

but not how poverty would scrape

her hands and her spirit raw.

 

As she reminisced with her family,

she stretched her cold arms around

 

their memories, pulled them into her chest, hoping

they’d kindle warmth in her homesick heart.

 

 

~ from Linda Whitesitt's book Hope As Wide As a Prairie Sky:
A Story of Courage and Grace

Click the book's title to learn more or purchase.