Marilyn Champlin
Author, Photographer, Digital Artist, Musician, Poet
Marilyn’s Story
Marilyn Champlin, a speech language pathologist, who earned her degree at the University of Northern Iowa, came to write about her subsequent experiences orchestrating a pilot project serving two young boys both of whom were blind, displaying significant global delays and whose habits included a variety of mannerisms characteristic of Autism.
Left to her own devices, she observed and experimented with varying processes of curriculum, teaching, parental intervention and community advocacy. Her experiences resulted in insight into effective intervention philosophy, assessment and techniques.
Over the years many folks have suggested she write a book about what she discovered in the hope it would assist families, educators and caregivers to provide quality intervention. With the ever-increasing rise in Autism it has become increasingly important to share this information.
Marilyn is also a published poet, lyricist and musician, photographer, videographer and digital artist. Her goal remains, “To be truly helpful.”
Devils Lake State Park
“I finished your book Ripples this afternoon. You did a wonderful job of capturing my interest so much that at times I couldn’t put it down. I needed to know what would happen next. The book brought many emotions to me as I read it. Joy, anger, awe, better understanding and guilt. 5 stars from me!”
– Lori Rudkin Roush
Ripples
Marilyn shares her story and experiences caring for two boys with special needs, having profound global delays. Her story is about the ripples created and how they’ve touched everything in her life.
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Marilyn’s Other Works
Music, poetry, photography, digital design and more, Marilyn shares her interests and passion for life!
Namaste
Marilyn’s Photography & Digital Art Gallery
Back Again
Published Lyrics by Marilyn Champlin
Struggled up life’s trails, traveled fast or slow
Felt storm clouds gather, saw devil winds blow.
Tasted whitecap waves, on a distant shore.
Hugged restless waters, left there wanting more.
It was then I heard, heard the towers cry
“Find your way back Find your way back home.”
Missing life the way it used to be
Help me find my way my way back home, Back again.
Wrapped in those words, I faced another day.
No explanations, nothing left to say.
The forest whispered, “Take the other way.
Do you recall that you, you were born to sway?”
Like the moon provokes daily tides below,
Ushers endless waves as they come and as they go
crushing stones and shells into grains of sand
Here I am.
Take me by the hand.
It was then I heard, heard the towers cry
“Find your way back Find your way back home.”
Missing life the way it used to be
Help me find my way my way back home, back again.
Copyright Marilyn Champlin. All rights reserved. All images and information on this page may not be copied or published without prior written request and permission.
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