Thank you, Mrs. Morris

[pjthompson]

The other day when I wrote my post on the ripple effect I just could not remember the name of the teacher who lent me, The Eagle of the Ninth. I felt completely guilty since I liked her a great deal and I'd gotten so much from her. I wracked my brain, but—as any true expert on torture will tell you—information garnered under torture is often useless because the one being tortured will say anything to stop the pain. I decided to take my brain off the rack and let the information come to me in its own time, like the shy young maiden that it was.

This morning the gentle approach paid off and Mrs. Morris tiptoed into my brain.

So, thank you Mrs. Morris, and I'm sorry it took a few days to remember your name. Your face was always vivid to me, especially the almost insecure look on your face when you recommended the book to me, and the great big smile when I later told you I loved it.

Comments

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

You made me think back to where the sutcliffs were on the shelves at my childhood library. i read them all, loving them, though I finally stopped rereading them when my reading tastes demanded more humor. But I will never forget that early pleasure.

As it happens, I don't remember any teacherly reccos for books. Did they not read? Never did one recommend a book. I hope some day some kid I've recommended books to has so long and fond a memory.

[pjthompson]

Did they not read? Never did one recommend a book.

I don't remember it happening all that often back then, either. I remember being given reading lists that we could choose books often, and I got slightly more recommends in high school (that's how I came across Catch-22), but it didn't happen often. I don't know why.

I hope some day some kid I've recommended books to has so long and fond a memory.

I'm sure they will. But it may not occur to them until many years later.