I like pens, pens, pens

I have always loved pens. They come in so many colors, in fact, practically all the colors of the rainbow. As for styles, wow, a person could have their own pen museum with the styles of pens past and present.

I grew up in the fifties and sixties. Old. I know. Old enough our teacher had us learn to use fountain pens. No easy cartridges. No, we had old fashioned ink pots and filled our pens by filling them from those pots. They were sometimes frustrating and awkward, but once we learned how to make the ink flow from the pen instead of making ink blobs, oh my. What even I could create was beautifully graceful. 

Still, I was glad to move onto pens that didn’t leave my hands stained. I liked the way a pen fit in my hand. A pencil stretched and pulled hard. A pen glided and left my mind free to create as it moved across the paper.

I always told stories, to my friends and to my younger brother. By fourth grade I began writing down the stories that danced through my mind. One fantasy story had the title Three Golden Apples. Back then, I didn’t journal regularly, but I began writing happenings my life—reality as well as fantasy.

With a magic pen and paper, I made friends and wrote to penpals even from other countries. Since my father was a minister, we moved as churches called my dad to come. Always, I had to leave friends behind. But we could stay in contact with a pen, stationery, an envelope and a stamp.

I loved pens. Loved when some new twist came on the market as pens got more inexpensive. Loved trying them out, discarding what didn’t have that same feel I looked for. I didn’t need expensive gifts. I was thrilled with new pens, paper and notebooks. It didn’t take long before I was lost in creation.

Give me a pen and you get lots of brownie points from me. In high school, I learned to type. By then, I had started to sell and have my work published in periodicals. By then, I was in a wheelchair. The church my dad served bought me my first electric typewriter to facilitate my writing. Later, of course, came the computer.

I got a degree in comprehensive journalism. I sold articles, features and books. But still, even now, my ideas begin with a pen in hand. It doesn’t matter how many pens I have. if a business offers me a pen, I’ll take it. I do like ones with a stylus on one end. 

My husband knows and has gotten me gifts of pens with my name and website to keep or hand out. While I use a computer to write now, a new pen still makes me smile.

Pens opened up my world in so many ways. Sometimes our future isn’t built on expensive toys, exciting experiences or education. Sometimes it’s built on something small that changes everything.  For me it was a pen. I look at my pens and smile as an idea begins to percolate in my mind.

What item, circumstance or experience provided long-term positive benefits for you?

© 2025 Carolyn R Scheidies
Published Kearney Hub 11/10/2025

Feel free to share