I would like to thank you for the many things I learned and experienced because of you. Sometimes it is hard to remember the little things that mean so much to someone in their early years and to remember from whom they were gifted. I'd like to share a few things with you, some of them things that I have done with the gifts I received from you. 

One of the earliest gifts I received was when I discovered your drawing ability and artistry. I remember digging through old boxes and scrapbooks in the big closet at the top of the stairway at the farm. I came upon some of your drawings you had done when you were young. I remember being astounded at how well you had drawn the cartoons of your day. I can't remember exactly which cartoons they were, but I remember that they were very well done. I had wondered why you hadn't gone on to be an artist, but women didn't do that very often in those days and you put your energies into being my mom instead. 

One evening while sitting with a friend, sipping a beer and watching a sunset, she casually mentioned that someday she wanted to write a story about an acorn. She didn't tell me her story but as the conversation shifted, the title of the story I was to write came immediately: "The Littlest Acorn." 

The next morning I sat down at a computer and wrote the whole story from beginning to end. I didn't know the whole story before I began, but it was whispered to me as I wrote. What I needed to finish the story was laid down before I even knew where the story was to go or how it was to end. It seemed like a miracle. I had surprised myself. I was ready for the illustrations.  

I had met an artist who had illustrated  children’s books a few months earlier so I called Pat, told her what I'd just written a children’s book and wondered if she would like to see what I had done, perhaps to be the illustrator for the book. She agreed to meet with me the following week, her son was graduating from high school and she was on the parent's committee to decorate.  

I was still excited from the writing experience and I felt frustrated that the illustrations were to be delayed. So I thought I would try to do the illustrations myself. I gathered paper and pencil, a clipboard, a mat and a cushion and went out to a city park near the Minneapolis Institute of Art. I remembered that there were big oak trees there, and there would probably be acorns and leaves that had been shed from the trees the previous fall. I found a big, beautiful oak to be the model for my illustration, laid down on my back on the mat, put a pillow behind my head and I began to draw.   

When I had finished drawing the tree looking up from the ground, I picked up twigs with leaves and a few acorns which I used as models for the drawings. Over the ensuing week before I met Pat, I completed several drawings which I showed her. 

“Allen, you don’t need me, “she said. “These illustrations are a very good start. You should do your own illustration.” 

I was surprised at her comments and more than a little pleased with myself. I had learned from you that drawing and illustrating were do-able and that I had inherited the ability to draw. 

This children’s story was made possible by your example of being your own artist and allowing me to know what is possible in me. I dedicate this story to you and to all who opened the way for me to discover who I am.