The Scroll Marked Four

I used to go to the library at least once a week in the summer with my mom, brother and sister. We would go to the tiny one room library in the town of Marine On St. Croix. We would pick out our books and then we would get ice cream at the Village Scoop where the scoops were as big as our heads. It was my favorite part of summer.

However, somewhere in the midst of graduate school, I lost my love of reading. Reading seemed more a method of torture, one I was not ready to inflict upon myself unless I HAD to.

Just recently, I started reading again. Just recently, I've read some great stuff. Just recently I read "The Greatest Salesman in the World" by Og Mandino.

In the book there are ten ancient scrolls that are said to contain the secrets and the lessons to becoming the greatest salesman in the world. This is not necessarily salesman of a product, but sale of one's self -- one's talents, one's abilities, to the marketplace. Within the scrolls is direction to changing the habits that keep us from the great success we are each individually capable of, and deserving.

The lessons are not easy. But they're good. Each scroll has a different lesson to share. Scroll Four reads (more or less):

I am nature's greatest miracle.

Since the beginning of time there has never been another quite like me. Instead of being ashamed of my unique talent, I will I place my uniqueness on display, as the centerpiece of my success. I will begin now to accent my differences. I am not on this earth by chance. I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain. Henceforth will I apply all my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy. I am nature's greatest miracle. I will win, and I will become great, for I am unique.
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I remember my first experience with the message of the scroll marked four.

It was the summer after my freshman year of college and for most of the summer, I wanted only one thing:

REVENGE.

Revenge for my broken heart.

To get my revenge I had many an evil word say, many a plan to not show up for a date. I tried many different things to get my revenge, though they all failed (mainly because the man at fault would not pick up his phone ... which was usually the thing that would set the whole revenge-plan in motion).

Finally, after all of my attempts were thwarted, I had only one thing left to do.

I would have to become FAMOUS.

Yes. In order to get my revenge I was going to have to become famous. I wasn't immediately sure how I was going to do it, but I knew it would have to be done. Once he saw me in my new famousness, he would have no choice but to realize his mistake. And there, in THAT moment, I would have my revenge.

I spent the rest of that summer riding around on the beer cart at the Chisago Lakes Golf Course plotting my meteoric rise to fame. I practiced my acceptance speeches and my TV interviews. I thought about whether I would move to Manhattan or Los Angeles. And of course, I imagined the look on his face... the pained look he would have when he realized that I was indeed, famous. The look when he realized it was HIS turn to wait on the phone line 30 times a day with no one picking up on the other end.

I would be just too famous for him.

Unfortunately, in all of my hours of driving around the golf course, serving beer, Snickers, and hot dogs... I had no idea how I was actually going to DO it ... how I would actually BECOME famous.

Then one day it hit me. A sure answer to fame, fortune, and most importantly, REVENGE.

I would enter the Minnesota State Fair Talent Contest.

(I think that's how most famous people have gotten their start).

Yes!! Every year thousands of people flock to the Minnesota Fair grounds in July to audition for the biggest talent show on earth (keep in mind this was before American Idol). I was going to BE one of those people... more importantly... I was going to WIN. The prize was fifteen hundred dollars, the crowd would be fifteen thousand deep. FAME!

A little research revealed that the deadline to submit your audition was quickly approaching -- I didn't have much time to think of my talent. I didn't have time to learn a song (or learn to sing), I didn't have time to learn a/to dance, and I certainly did not have the time (nor the desperation) to learn to twirl a baton. I was simply going to have to become famous using the only talent I had on short notice:

Telling a story.

This was controversial, I knew that. It would be the first time I had ever told a story outside of a school or speech team setting. I would probably be scorned, booed, and thrown off the stage for wasting everyone's time ... But my desire to become famous outweighed my desire not to make a fool of myself so I submitted my audition sheet and a few weeks later, after practicing in front of the golfers in the club house after Men's League, (hey, if it was good enough for them, it was good enough to make me famous), I arrived at the Leinenkugel Leinie Lodge Bandshell -- the site of the Minnesota State Fair Talent Auditions.

My mom came with me. This was something I wasn't going to be able to do alone.

As we walked up to the 4,000 seat open-air venue, I got a very uneasy feeling. I noticed there were only about 100 people there; all of them dressed up in sparkly costumes, and most of them in curly ponytails. I immediately began to regret my decision.

I went up to the list posted on the wall that stated the order of the auditions. It listed names and talents... though all I saw were the talents:

song
song
dance
song
baton
dance
s t o r y t e l l e r
song
dance
dance
song

Even the NAME of my talent stood out like a sore thumb. Oh this was bad. A very bad idea. Becoming famous suddenly didn't seem like the way to go. Perhaps I should just go back to leaving several hundred "breezy messages" on his parents' answering machine instead ...

Before I had time to run, (and just moments before I had time to vomit) they called my name.

I had no choice.

I walked up on stage.
I told my story to deadpan mothers of toddler tap dancers and teenage girls about to lip-sync to Britney while dancing a dance they made up in the basement.
Four minutes, 9 different characters, and one "once upon a time" later, I was done.
I walked off the stage to the wild cheering of my OWN mother.
And I went home.

Though my dreams of US Weekly cover pages were destroyed, the greater damage was to my spirit. It was unfortunate that my talent was so ... undesirable.

Or so I thought.

A few weeks later, a letter arrived in the mail. CONGRATULATIONS KINDRA!! YOU ARE A SEMIFINALIST AT THE 2000 MINNESOTA STATE FAIR TALENT CONTEST!!

No. Way.

My mom cheered. My golfers cheered. My grandparents cheered (because they go to the fair every year dontchano).

I was silent.

You mean to tell me I'm going to have to do that again? In front of MORE PEOPLE?! This couldn't be good.

On the night of my Semi Final performance, the 4,000 seats at the Leinenkugel Leinie Lodge Bandshell were full. 25 of them were filled with my golfers (I brought them for back up).

I stood backstage. Pacing. Wringing my hands. Pacing. Breathing deep.

The sound girl asked if she had the CD for my music.

"I'm not singing. I'm telling a story."

"Oh... um. Do you have your DANCE music?" As if perhaps I didn't speak English.

"Noo. I am not dancing. I'm telling a story."

"Oh... um. Do you need your guitar?"

I was just about to hit her (then vomit) when I heard it ... I was being announced onstage. It was time.

"Please welcome Kindra! Telling a story ...?" Oh geezuz.

I walked out to only a few applause from 8,000 hands. I saw the faces of 4,000 people wondering what they had just gotten themselves into. 4,000 people already feeling sorry for me.

Then, in the back of the crowd, I saw my golfers. In the third row, I saw my mom and dad. In the first row with her rain bonnet on (despite the perfect weather), I saw my grandmother and next to her, Grandpa. Somewhere, in that sea of faces, I saw my opportunity. I knew I was nothing like anything they had ever seen. And I knew that if I played my cards right, my quirky talent could be the very reason I won this damn thing.

"Once upon a time a long, long time ago ..."

Four minutes and 9 different characters later I had done it. That audience was MINE. I walked off the stage to 4,000 people on their feet (and a crew of golfers (and my mother) jumping up and down) and a feeling of pride greater than I had ever known. It was then that I knew...

Since the beginning of time there has never been another quite like me. Instead of being ashamed of my unique talent, I will I place my uniqueness on display, as the centerpiece of my success. I will begin now to accent my differences. I am not on this earth by chance. I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain. Henceforth will I apply all my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy. I am nature's greatest miracle. I will win, and I will become great, for I am unique.

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I won that semi-final round, probably BECAUSE my talent was so unique. A week later I was on the stage for the Finals in front of 15,000 people. For four minutes I was uniquely Kindra. I walked away with second place ... and I believe a lifetime of success to come.

The same is true for you, for anyone who knows that they are nature's greatest miracle.

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This is the video from my second appearance in the Final Round (the year AFTER this story took place)

The Three Men in the Wood by the Brother's Grimm