Anne grew up in the small town of Nekoosa, Wisconsin. Nekoosa, which Ojibwa for ‘swift waters’, lies on the banks of the Wisconsin River. Anne’s older siblings took her with them when they ice-skated on a shallow inlet of the river. Too young to skate, she skidded around in her boots, discovering winter. The ice held intriguing colors and mysterious bumps. Brittle reeds on the snowy edges of the pond were dancing to the wind’s music. There may have been a fairy or two. Here lay magic!

Back in the warm house, she often was privileged to attend tea parties with wonderful women who showed her the delights of holding a delicate tea cup, the satisfaction of a well-knit row, and the joys of talking, really talking, with people.

Then there was the little public library. After a hot walk on a summer’s day, Anne would struggle to open the heavy door and enter the world of smooth oak tables, shelves of books to be explored, and a librarian who knew exactly how to help children fall in love with books.

Life contained many joys and mysteries and she wanted to write about it. She began drawing as a preschooler, which lead to stories. When she learned to write in cursive in third grade, the stories came faster and faster and papers piled up. You can read one of Anne’s stories. It was a good thing she lived in a paper mill town!

There have been typewriters and computers and many wonderful life experiences since then. The mysteries of life continue. The magic of a winter’s day remains, but life’s big questions also challenge her. Why are some people hungry on an earth that can produce enough food for everyone? Why is there still war? How can we work to bring about a world in which all children have love, security, education, and shelter?

You’ll find the threads of both running through her writings.