Margaret Ann Philbrick has been gardening since her mother gave her a pansy garden to plant and tend when she was five. She grew up in a small Illinois town with a busy street out front and a big river out back. Ranunculus is her favorite flower and T.S. Eliot or Gerard Manley Hopkins are her favorite poets. After several years working in advertising, selling Kellogg’s Pop-Tarts, she stayed home with her children and helped them plant their own gardens. Now they have grown, so she cultivates a garden of words with her fifty writing students and her own words at the old “Lincoln desk” in her living room. A long time ago it belonged to Lorenzo Lincoln, not Abe Lincoln. The laundry, if it gets done, doesn’t get folded.
With gratitude she thanks her parents and husband, Charlie, for providing for her education at Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, Cambridge University, England and National Louis University in Chicago. Margaret and Charlie fell in love in Harry Caldwell’s Theories of Rhetorical Analysis class and despite being married twenty-seven years; they still try to read a poem to each other every night before the light goes out. She is exhilarated by the beginning of things, planting seeds in windowsill trays, researching a new novel or heading out on a trail run. Like George Bernard Shaw, she hopes to be “thoroughly used up when I die.” Her unfulfilled dream is to teach writing and literature in a school or orphanage in Africa, then come home and write about it.
She serves on boards and has won awards, but all that is pretty boring to talk about. Most important is the living reality that Margaret is surrendered to the cross of Jesus Christ. Her favorite part of the day… morning prayer while walking or running her dog, Snuggles.