Gail Rosen
Consultant, Facilitator, Educator, Storyteller
Storytelling
I not only admire your natural talent but your ability to connect with others and draw out their 'souls' is a true gift!"
Debbie Zepp
Carroll Hospice, Westminster, MD
You painted a vivid picture, and we felt a part of the story."
Barbara Sugarman, Adult and Cultural Director
Jewish Community center of Wyoming Valley,
Wilkes-Barre, PA.
We are very grateful, Gail, for having shared your storytelling experience. It felt like a large sacred circle from which we all left with a special gift of love and understanding. Thank you for touching us so profoundly."
Janis Kleingurger, Volunteer Coordinator
Weinstein Hospice, Atlanta GA
"I loved your stories. They were fun. I thought I was in heaven like it was really happening. You would make a good storyteller. If you are one, I think you picked the right job."
Maia, 5th grade
Gail enjoys bringing the richness, joy and delight of stories to diverse audiences, throughout the U.S. and beyond. Her training and experience contribute to engaging and moving performances, stimulating and inspiring workshops, and insightful and supportive coaching.
In Paris, on a street corner, there was a blind man, sitting with a cup and a sign.
“Blind. No Pension. Please Help.”
People walked past, some strolling and gazing at the beauty of the buildings and trees, some arm in arm, some striding purposefully off to some important business.
A poet passed, paused, dropped a coin into the cup, and heard the man’s “thank you” as he walked on. Then he paused again and returned, crouching down to speak.
“How is it with you?”
“Not well,” said the beggar. “People are busy, or stingy. Very few drop money into my cup.”
The poet said, “Would you mind if I wrote something on your sign?”
“All right,” said the blind man, “but write on the other side.”
He heard the scratch of the poet’s pen, then “Good luck!” and footsteps.
A few weeks later, in Paris, on a street corner, there was a blind man, sitting with a cup and a sign.
The poet came up, crouched down. “How is it with you?”
“You! I recognize your voice! It’s amazing! Much better! People stop, they give me money. Some even stop and talk. Only tell me, please. What did you write on my sign?”
“Ahh.... I’m glad to hear it,” said the poet. “You had the facts on your sign. But people need a picture, and a story. I only wrote, “Spring is coming. And I will not see it.”
The story begins here....