True Genius Essay Contest First Place Winner!

When Your Muse Hands You Lemons...

By Beth Morrow

Dominated by math problems with one acceptable solution and penmanship rules that shunned star-dotted I's, the creativity I'd been gifted with at birth fizzled by fifth grade. When Mr. H made us enter an ad contest sponsored by car company, I planned a color-pencil car surrounded by a traditional family like everyone else. I wasn't about to be the girl with the "full of weird and random thoughts" box checked on her grade card.

As I settled at the kitchen table that evening, my brain didn't bubble with images of Mercury Monarchs — it gave me lemons. Brilliantly yellow lemons. Lemons on wheels. Lemons with exhaust pipes, steering wheels and windshields. Lemons that loved Sunday drives.

I repressed the lemons to get to the cars. Lemons resurfaced. I leafed through dad's Popular Mechanics. Lemons percolated through chrome and engine blocks. I played with my brother's Matchbox collection hoping for osmotic transfer of their car spirits to me.

Unfortunately, lemons won.

Begrudgingly, I sketched the best lemon car ever. The family of the tricked-out fruit grinned, unaware the citric acid inside would both burn and cure their scurvy. With a heavy heart, I penned a clever caption then stuck the failure in my Trapper Keeper.

A few weeks later, Mr. H silenced us to share "neato news". Someone — in our class — had won the advertising contest. Hushed whispers bounced off the creaky wooden floor beneath chunks of spring mud. Mr. H approached my girls-only block of desks with a certificate and a check, stopping beside me. In disbelief, I shook his hand and took my bounty. Genuine smiles, jealous glares and a life-long love of lemons are the memories I carry with me from that day I felt — and reluctantly ran with — the genius of my creative inspiration. •

© 2009 Beth Morrow, www.bethmorrow.com.

03/18/09