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Show o Ll By Brian Gray Sometimes, without much thought, we make a great decision. de-cision. . .It's those times that allow us to feel the warmth of other human beings. My decision came last year when I received a telephone call from a fifth-grade girl. Her name was Betsy, she said, and she asked if I could speak to her elementary school class about business and writing. Such calls are common and, being a practical person more interested in pleasing my banker than a fifth-grader, I usually decline. After all, the kid is only calling to fulfill a school project... They '11 always find someone else... What wisdom can I impart to children who are still struggling with times-tables? But Betsy was different. I don't know why, but on an impulse I accepted her invitation. It's now been 14 months since I arrived at Betsy's school. It's been 14 months since her teacher greeted me in the school office with an expression of great relief. "I'm so glad you came for Betsy," the teacher told me. "When she first told me you were coming, I was worried that she might have made it up or that you might let her down and not show up. Betsy's a special child." "I've never met her," I explained to the teacher. "Why is my appearance such a big thing. To be honest, I'm not sure I have anything really worthwhile to say." "Oh," said the teacher, "it goes much beyond what you're going to say. The important thing is that you're here. Betsy has been disappointed too often in her life." I asked the teacher to explain. "Well, you have to understand our school. Most of the children chil-dren come from fairly well-to-do families. The parents are mostly most-ly professional people so the children have been brought up in nice homes and have traveled widely. In fact, most of the children have traveled more than I have. The class you're speaking to is a course for bright, advanced children, and the children come from upper-crust permanent homes. "But Betsy doesn't live in this neighborhood. Her mother arranged for her to come here on a UTA bus. The girl is bright, but she doesn't have the advantages the other children have. The mother feels Betsy will get a better education here than in the school she's supposed to attend." "What does her father do for a living?" I asked. "She doesn't have one or at least one that she knows. The dad deserted the family right after Betsy was born. That's why I'm so pleased you could come. When the children were asked to invite a guest speaker, the other kids invited one of their mother's or father's friends. But Betsy didn't know anybody." "How did she find out my name?" "From the newspaper." (I was involved in a well-publicized lawsuit at that time.) "I don't know if her mother helped her or not. All I know is that she cut out newspaper clippings with your name in the stories, and she said she always wanted to be a writer." Once in the classroom I met Betsy, and after boring the children for 45 minutes I thanked her for the invitation and drove back to my office. One week later I received a thank you card and I wrote her back with a smattering of wish-you-well pleasantries. That was 14 months ago. Then last week I received another letter from Betsy. It was written in pen on lined paper in concise cursive handwriting. Betsy wrote that her classmates are planning plan-ning a trip to Disneyland as part of a school educational project. Through babysitting and crafts projects she had raised much of the money, but she was still $200 short of the amount needed. The other kids in her class had previously been to Disneyland and had told her about what to expect. She hated to ask for help, he wrote, but... ... I I thought about her classmates. For them, it would be an easy request. ("That sounds like a great timerJulie. Let us know when you need the money and...") Yes, for them it would be an easy request. And for me, it was an easy decision. Betsy.. .The check is in the mail. |
