“Life Lessons” by T.G. Gilliam
The San Gabriel Writers’ League (SGWL) wrapped up its annual Essay Contest in April, spotlighting the creative talents of writers across Central Texas. Open to members and non-members, the 2025 competition invited essays of 1,500 words or fewer centered on the theme, “Turning Points.” Writers explored defining moments, unexpected detours, and life-changing decisions in pieces that were heartfelt, humorous, and thought-provoking.
Donnella Looger is the current vice president of the San Gabriel Writers’ League and the driving force behind this year’s essay contest. Having been introduced to Donnella by Linda Thornton, one of Georgetown View’s own writers, we are grateful for her invitation to participate and showcase the top writers. Her tireless work in organizing, promoting, and championing the contest gave local authors a meaningful opportunity to share their voices. As the owner of DRL Press, Donnella brings expert editing, proofreading, and publishing skills to the table—skills that have helped many writers, including several League members, experience the joy of seeing their work in print.
Third-place winner T.G. GILLIAM’s first published piece was for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. To her surprise it was accepted in the first round of submissions. A second and later third short story were also accepted. She finds fiction too difficult but may attempt a children’s book in the future.
During COVID she wrote and self-published two books on Amazon. She is now working on her first non-fiction book about her trips to old dance halls in Texas.
T.G. writes poetry as an act of personal reflection, enjoys coloring mandalas, reading, dancing, and taking long walks with friends and family.
“LIFE LESSONS”
My mother instilled a love of books in me early in life. I’m sure it started as a way to keep a two-year-old quiet and occupied. We would sit on the couch, and Mom would read, her finger pointing out the words. She would sound out letters and have me repeat them while we examined the pictures.
I memorized the stories and would “read” them out loud. By the time I entered kindergarten, I was reading books at the first and second-grade levels. I mimicked my mother’s speaking patterns. She would raise or lower her voice to indicate a question, emphasize emotions, or show a different character. She acted out the parts to create interest in the story and gave me a safe place to do the same.
When my sister was born, I was almost three. I wasn’t sure about being a big sister. When my grandparents came to see the new baby, my mom asked me to read to my Grandpa. He was surprised when I started reading Go Dog, Go! by Dr. Seuss.
He chucked at the pictures of green dogs driving blue cars and red cars under yellow trees. When I came to the last few pages, tears ran down his face from laughter. I enthusiastically read about dogs and cars of all colors going to the tree for a big dog party.
My pronunciation was a little off. My Grandpa heard me say big dogs and little dogs were all going to the tree for a big dog POTTY. My feelings were hurt as he laughed and took his glasses off to wipe tears from his eyes. Mom said he wasn’t laughing at me. He just enjoyed how I told the story.
Growing up with three siblings, we had inevitable clashes. Alliances might form between the oldest and the youngest or the ones born under the sign of Pisces against the ones born under Libra. No matter how we paired up, we eventually heard, “Stop fighting!” So, in elementary school, when a bully started picking on me, I didn’t fight back.
My attitude toward going to school changed, and my Mother noticed. She asked what was going on. Why didn’t I want to go to school any longer? I told her a girl pushed everybody in line at the end of recess, and she seemed to pick on me quite often. To my surprise, my Mother said, “Why are you letting her pick on you?” I looked at her and said, “Because you said not to fight.”
Mother shook her head and said, “We don’t start fights, but we don’t become doormats either. You don’t let someone take advantage of you. Next time you’re in that situation, give them a verbal warning. Tell them, ‘Stop that, or I’ll knock you flat.’ And then do it!” I couldn’t believe she was giving me permission to fight! I could hardly wait for school.
The next day at recess, just as anticipated, the bully cut in line behind me. When others protested, she lied and said I gave her back cuts, making me the target of classmates’ ire.
I knew what was coming. She would start pushing, and I would fall against the person in front of me. They would be mad, and I would be the one blamed. I braced myself, and sure enough, she pushed. I turned around, looked at her, and said “Stop pushing me!” Then I turned back around. Darn! In my eagerness to fight, I forgot to warn her. I was going to have to let her push me again.
Push me, she did, with a little more force this time. I was shoved into the person in front of me. Again, I turned around and, in a louder voice, said “Stop pushing me, or I’ll knock you flat.” Kids in line on either side of us, in front of me and behind her, suddenly focused on our interaction. All the talking stopped, and we became the main attraction.