If They'd Let Me
I made the mistake of asking her to write a letter to Melina. "Every Friday," I said, "Melina brings home a letter to us telling us about her week. We sign the letter, which lets the teacher know we saw it. And then we write one back to her. Can you write one?" I didn't give her the chance to say yes or no, but she nodded her head and picked up her pencil. She'd been trying to make her way through The Count of Monte Cristo. She'd read it before, but had decided to read it again. When she told me that, I wanted to tell her there was little chance she'd make it through that novel at all, but I didn't feel like playing the part of the killjoy messenger. I watched as she flipped the notebook pages backward and read my letter from the previous weekend. Then she read the letter that Tim had written two weeks ago. She reached for her pencil again. I'm not sure how long she stared at the paper, but without a word, she went to find my Dad. ...