"Those are my books!" I squealed when the unsuspecting UPS man arrived earlier this week.  I actually jumped up and down on the porch when the poor guy was unloading them from the truck.  "My first novel," I added as he wearily heaved the last back from the dolly.  He graciously smiled.  

UPS guys and gals are busy, busy...some of the fastest moving folks you'll see.  But I was hardly done with him.  "I've been waiting for you all day."  I was glowing, to be sure.  My baby had arrived.  

The UPS man probably assumed he wouldn't escape me unless he engaged in conversation.  "Your first book, huh?  That's great.  What's it about?" 

"The Amish," I said, staring at the boxes.  "It's a love story."  

"Cool," the young guy said.  "I always thought those people were interesting."

He began to back down the porch steps.  I considered tripping him.  After all, it was a big moment for me, and no one was around to share it with.  But a knot was forming in my throat, and I knew what was forthcoming.  So, I waved and let him jog back to his truck, in the rain.  

Once inside the house, I heaved a box on the counter and delicately sliced the tape.  Peeling back the box flaps, I was trembling.  And, as I had suspected, the feel of that book in my hands brought on a flood of tears.  The front cover, the back cover, the binding...all beautiful.  The first 'Daughters of the Promise' novel had become a reality.  

When a lifelong dream reaches fruition, it's hard to put it into words.  With the exception of the births of my children, it was my proudest moment to date.  I called my mother, wishing more than ever before that my dad was alive.  

"I'm fine, Mother," I told her when she answered the phone, as it was clear I was crying and I didn't want to scare her.

"Oh, Beth," she kept repeating, while I rambled on about how emotionally overwhelmed I was.  

I'd heard the stories from other authors.  I'd read about publishing success stories for many years.  Would it ever be me, I wondered.  And on Tuesday, it was.