Thank you for a wonderful year of new adventures in self-publishing. Part One today, and the conclusion on December 31st, the last day of 2015
All Good
Gifts
by Judith Cullen
© 2015
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| Found on ourgloriousgotham.blogspot.com |
The hands that held the small frame gently were beginning to
twist with age.
"It is one of my most treasured possessions," she
said softly.
"I don't remember ever having seen it before, Mom. How
long have you had this?" her daughter inquired, noticing the clear
affection with which the elder woman was regarding the picture she cradled.
"Oh! Years and years."
She ran her wrinkled thumb along the dull, gold-painted
frame, feeling the texture of it, her eyes never leaving the small oil painting
as she spoke.
"Over sixty some years ago, now. Sometimes I wonder
..."
Her mind wandered away to that realm of familiar yesterdays,
where minds are young and full of endless tomorrows, and bodies are still
straight and free from restriction or pain.
***
Ann felt a sense of pride when her English teacher asked her
to stay after class. There was never any fear when a teacher asked
to speak to the sixteen year old Ann. She was an excellent student and a good
writer. Her last story about a city doctor sent to nurse an ailing
keeper in a Scottish Lighthouse was one she was especially proud of. She
expected the teacher wanted to praise her, or impart some valuable insight that
would make Ann's story even better.
She waited patiently as the rest of the students filed out
before picking up her books, walking to the front of the room, and standing
respectfully at the corner of the big desk. The teacher rose and
pulled the door shut, returned to her chair and shuffled some papers, before
consulting a list and then, removing her glasses, looked up at Ann.
"I have something that might interest you. It is
strictly voluntary, not a requirement and certainly not tied to your grade in
anyway."
Ann nodded her head to show that she understood, listening
attentively.
"I am not making this available to everyone, Ann. There
are only a few students that I believe are mature enough, and who would benefit
from this. You are one of them. Have you ever had a pen
pal ?"
"I know what they are," Ann replied, "and I
once corresponded for several years with a girl I met at camp. I
write letters to my cousins in the Midwest .
Some of them I have never even met in person."
"This is much like that, and yet it is also different
as it involves writing to someone in another country. I would be
giving your name to a young woman about your age in Germany , and
you would exchange letters with her."
Ann drew in a breath of surprise. It was 1947:
World War II and the things that had happened all over Europe were
still very much on people's minds. It seemed that every few months
some new story still surfaced of privation or atrocity. Living near
the West coast of the United States and
having worked as a volunteer plane spotter during the war, Ann's wartime
thoughts had mostly been focused on Japan . To correspond
with someone from Germany ? To
actually get to know someone who had lived through all those awful times? That
was something that took Ann completely by surprise. She was not sure how she
felt about it.
"Oh, but I don't speak German at all ma'am."
"No need to Ann. The participating students in Germany all
have good English skills and wish to better them by exchanging letters with an
American student."
The teacher paused, giving Ann a moment to absorb this
before she continued in hushed tones, "Now, I understand that some people
harbor ill feelings from the war. If you feel you need to discuss
this with your parents first, I completely understand. I would like
for you to be a part of this exchange, but we do need your parents permission
first."
"No need," Ann said without hesitation, "My
parents won't object." Both her parents had family ties to Germany , and
she knew they'd be pleased for her to write to someone there.
"Good. I am glad to hear that," the
teacher shuffled through a few more papers, chose several, drew out an envelope
and wrote Ann's name on it. Organizing the papers in an order that
suited her, she folded the three sheets and slid them in. She had a
whimsical smile on her face, as if something about her choice pleased her very
much."
"Here is the information on the student you are to
correspond with. She lives just outside of Augsburg in Bavaria . I've
included a letter for your parents which they need to sign. There
are also instructions on how to mail letters overseas, if you have never done
that before. The first exchanges of letters will be collected and mailed
through myself and my colleague in Germany . After that, you
will be free to mail them on your own. Do you have any questions?"
"No ma'am." Ann took the envelope when it was
handed to her and tucked it in her chemistry book.
"I hope this is a satisfying opportunity for you. Exchanging
letters and becoming friends with someone in a foreign land is the next best
thing you can do to traveling there. You learn about other nations
as people, not just as news items. You also learn about cultures and
customs that may not be the same as your own. I think that you will
find it very enlightening and enjoyable."
"I am sure I will. Thank you. Is that all,
ma'am?"
"Yes Ann. Off to your next class with you,
and you can leave the door open when you go."
Ann nodded again and hurried out the door.
The teacher watched her go wondering, as she always did,
what might come from two young people on opposite side of the world reaching
out to one another openly offering friendship.
***
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Ann completely forgot the envelope until much later, when
she was on the bus going home from school. She pulled it out of her
book and opened it, eagerly scanning the sheets of paper: mailing instructions,
parent letter, here is was! She laughed to herself, understanding now why the
teacher had seemed so pleased with herself. The girl whose name she
had been given to write to was a couple of years older than she was. She
lived in a place called "Gessertshausen" and Ann studied the place
name carefully to make certain she memorized the spelling with all its sundry
e's and s's. The detail that had so amused the teacher was clearly
that the name of the German student she had chosen for her was
"Anna."
***
Weeks passed before the first round of letters
arrived. Ann received it from the teacher with an concealed awe. It
was a little thrilling, the sealed envelope with its very neat handwriting that
spelled out her own name. It was the same sensation as holding a
wrapped gift, like a birthday present, attractively decorated with paper and
ribbon. She hated to open it and spoil the perfection of the
mystery, yet she was excited to discover what who it was waiting to meet her
within.
She studied it as she walked down the hallway to a window
bay where she could sit and open it in relative privacy. The treasure was
unlocked with a single slice of her hand under the envelope flap, and the
stationary made a satisfying swish as she pulled out the letter. Ann
read the letter once, twice, and then a third time. She savored the
tingling sensation of reading the words of greeting and tentatively phrased
"getting-to-know you"s. There was something wonderful
about knowing that these words were written just for her eyes by someone she
had never met before. She longed to seize paper and pen right there
and begin to compose the words that would carry them beyond the cautious
opening sallies into really getting acquainted. Ann smoothed the
letter as she pressed it into her math text. She was conscious of it
all through the rest of the day, though she left it tucked safely inside the
book. It was like carrying a hidden jewel, something of great worth
that no one else knew about.
That night she read the letter through again and showed it
to her Mom.
"She's got a fine hand," Mom observed, " and
a nice, polite way about her."
Ann had noticed that the Anna's English was very formal, and
her Mom said that was often the way of people who learn another language
besides the one that they speak every day.
"What shall I write in reply?" Ann asked. "There
are so many things I could say. I am almost not sure where best to begin."
"I would say, start by responding in-kind. She
has told you about her family and school. Begin with telling her
about yours. Perhaps add a few things beyond that so as to invite
her to tell you more about herself."
Her dad, who had been listening in the next room loped in
and folded his rangy form into a chair beside his daughter. "It's like
building a house of stone or brick, Ann. You do it one course and at
time, one layer built upon the next. You don't rush in or get sloppy
with the mortar, you just keep building step by step at a time. Making a new
acquaintance is really no different than building."
Ann nodded and read the letter all the way through one more
time. She had almost committed to memory by now.
***
The next day was Saturday, and after her morning chores were
completed she sat at the kitchen table in the sunshine and begin to write her
reply. Half way down the first page, she stopped and crumpled it up,
tossing it in a nearby wastepaper basket. Her second attempt only
made it through the opening paragraph before it too went sailing. She
looked at the paper for a long time before lowering her pen to begin a third
time. She wanted her reply to be perfect.
Slowly, deliberately she wrote the letter; not allowing
herself to rush ahead or letting her mind go faster than her pen could
scratch. She decided on each word, composed each sentence carefully
before she committed it to the page. When she was through, she read
it to herself in a low voice, then read it again silently before folding it and
sliding it into the envelope she had prepared. It was done. How
long would it be before she heard back from Germany ?
It was several weeks before the postman delivered Anna's
response. The envelope had the exotic look of foreign lands and
thousands of miles of travel about it. Ann took it to her room and
opened it to read, where she was met with a burst of enthusiastic words from
Anna, which seemed to explode from the page all around her and fill the air in
the bedroom with the joy of discovery and a new found friend.
That was how the friendship began.
##
Check back Thursday, December 31st as we close out 2015 with the conclusion of All Good Gifts
Al
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