A toddler in an emotionally explosive and unstable family has her leg amputated. In spite of significant hurdles, she powers through to become a successful career woman and equally successful single parent.
Wendy Sura Thomson is a 5-star author of Summon the Tiger, The Third Order, The Man from Burnt Island, and Postcards from the Future (as a contributing author.) She has several more works underway. She lives in Michigan with her beloved Setters and covets sipping coffee outdoors first thing in the morning, rain or shine., listening to the waterfall and the birds and watching [often with amusement] the pups explore.
My son suggested I write this book. And as I approached the project, I started the tale with an intricate portrait of a child's life. It is slow; it is nuanced. It is this way because I wanted a backdrop against which subsequent events could be contrasted. The innocent childhood became abused; this child's self esteem took a beating. Took a beating, but did not die. This is a story akin to a phoenix - a rising from the ashes to raise children without visiting the "sins of the father" upon her own children. A phoenix that flew - maybe not as high as others would have, but remarkably high nevertheless, given the tethers placed around her ankles. This story starts out as an unopened flower. It takes a while, but the flower eventually blooms.
Summon the Tiger
The first thing I remember was the television set. It was a rectangular blond wood box, as tall as I was but maybe only a couple of feet or so wide. The tube-powered screen bulged out grey in the top center. It was a small screen, only maybe 8 or 10 inches wide. There were a couple of dark, round knobs underneath the screen. The set was in our living room. My first memory was standing before it, holding something – probably my ever-present Susie doll. The room seemed dim, and I was watching Queen Elizabeth proceed down the aisle of Westminster Abbey to very big and important music. I only saw her back, and I only remember her royal cape. It was long and wide, trimmed in what I learned later was ermine. It seemed to almost reach from pew to pew. Just a snippet of a memory, but I was totally transfixed. That was June 3, 1953… I was 2 and a half.