Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Ashley B.

Several weeks ago my mom came into the kitchen laughing.
She explained that months ago she had received a flyer from her college asking her random questions about what she was currently doing with her life. She filled it out carelessly late one night and sent it in.
Imagine her surprise when it returned to her in book form. Apparently it was the 50th anniversary of her graduating class. The printed book had a whole page on where each class mate was and what they were doing. Mom's was very original. Where her peers were golfing in Florida, and relishing retirement, she was in Washington "uncovering her Hebrew roots."
I laughed as hardily as she did when she read it. She sounded like a nut.
The kids came in and looked at all the pictures and mom showed them who had had plastic surgery and who hadn't.

Fast forward to this Monday. I was down in the orchard hanging my clothes on the line when a very white-faced, wrinkled-browed, mother walked toward me. She handed me a stamped envelope addressed to herself. I opened it and read:

Dear Gloria,

As a friend from college, I've whatched your progess. I've learned that you teach your grandkids now. Through your life I've uncovered that you believe yourself to be a jew. Mmmmmm... But I have learned that your a Christian too! That's what's most important. I'm also glad that you flattened your hair. The pictures that I saw a few years ago were....rather startling.

As a secret companion I'm yours,
Ashley B.

"What do you make of that?" Mom demanded.
"Honestly, I don't know what to make of it," I replied. It creeped me out, the spelling especially, what kind of college was this?
Mom leaned forward dramatically, "I didn't know any Ashley."
The plot thickened.
"Well where is it from?" I turned over the envelope again. Nevada.
I looked closer at the postal stamp that should tell the city and state. It was a butterfly.
"Mom, I think this must be from one of your grandchildren."

Avonlea looks so innocent. Especially when she plays the harp.
When Mom called her Ashley she started to giggle.
She reminded us that she had once sent Grant a letter from President Obama asking Grant to be "Boy of  the Year" and walk in a parade in Washington DC. Grant had hidden it and lived in nervous agonies for weeks.
I had forgotten about that.
She may have a talent here that I've overlooked.

I wonder who the next recipient of that talent will be....


  1. That is hilariously shocking! Who knew sweet little Avonlea! :)

  2. Oh she's good. She's very good.



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