Page 63 - Wake Up and do Your Thing

NICHOLAS BOOTHMAN
“I had no self-confidence and I was full of shame. I believed people's negative opinions about me and allowed them to determine how I should think about myself.”
Morgan let me record her story for this book so it might serve as an inspiration to anyone else driven by desperation and dignity.
A once-bustling community in Southern Ontario, Kenbridge had two sawmills, a wagon dealer, a lumber shop, a blacksmith shop, a drug store and three hotels. There was also a schoolhouse, post office, church and a community centre. It was built in the mid-1800s but most of the town’s settlers left in the early 1920s when it was logged out. A few of the structures from the original town are still standing.
“When I was growing up I used to hide in trees,” Morgan told me, “they were my friends; they looked after me. There was this giant elm that had a special place in my heart. High like a church spire, its trunk and branches thick and strong, its majestic canopy kept me safe and hidden. Like a hug from heaven.
“Nobody knew trees like I did. They were my escape, a place I could go to feel safe. High up in the branches I could look down on the laborers: I knew they couldn’t see me. One morning after I’d been put upon and locked in the coal shed all night, I climbed up to my safe spot. Every inch of me ached and I felt sullied beyond repair. I couldn’t take it anymore, I just wanted to keep climbing until I reached
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