I came into the world on the icy winter wind. A prairie blizzard - one you can't know unless you have lived here.
I was prairie raised and think some of my strength isn't me.
It comes from those prairie roots that are all knotted up with my own tangled faith. A faith that is bolstered by the streaks of colour across the big sky on the bleakest winter days.
Strength comes from the special bond that ties families who live on these plains - our lives ebb and flow together to create a larger family.
That my own mother and father who have this soil on their hands, the chinook wind howling through their hair and love of the land in their heart raised me. I will raise my own here and they will know that this is our prairie.
Harsh climates grow deep roots.