Still a suck-up

A woman from my hometown - Moscow, PA - received the Newbury Honor Award this year for Children's Literature. I'm a big fan of kids' lit. so when I saw her book on the ALA website, I read it, and then sent her a note to congratulate her. I probably haven't talked to this woman since she was my eighth grade homeroom teacher. However, her family went to my church and her son graduated with me. His and my circles also intersected once in a while. I knew that she would recognize me, and it wouldn't be outrageous for her to receive a card from me.

I didn't know the address, but I only had to fill out her name and the zip code and I knew it would reach her. How can one not love small towns? The mailman has four boys. My mom used to baby-sit them until the fourth was born. She said she wouldn't be able to handle that manyboys under 6! The mailman's father went rafting with me in the Grand Canyon a few years ago. He's a cool guy. I'm not sure what he did for a living, but it involved the government's relationship with the public. His biggest project over the years was Centralia, PA. That the town, under which the coal mines have been burning for decades. Slowly the government has been buying people's houses before they fall into the burning inferno (literally). However, there are still some die hard Centralians who refuse to move. Most of them are old, so now we're just waiting for them to die.

But I digress, which is easy to do when one talks about the politics of small town America.

I sent a card. I received a reply. My card was pleasant, maybe even funny. Her reply heartfelt and properly punctuated. But I question the last line. What am I supposed to imply from it? It reads: "What a crew we had in homeroom that year...that was the year that made me decide I wanted to write full time!"

While I appreciate the thought that I played a pivotal role in her celebrated career. I'm not sure if I want that role.