By Bruce Mastracchio
Dear Readers, as a prologue to “The California Kid,” I told you that I had received a nice note from a Mrs. S. (1991). At the time I did not share it with anyone, though I wish she had sent it to the paper as a Letter to the Editor.
Recently I have been going through all my files trying to get revved up to write some new stuff. Like I said, I have been stuck, and remain stuck in a rut. Getting closer, but still not there.
When I wrote for the local newspapers and magazines, the editors always wanted me to be controversial. They wanted the readers riled up and writing to the editor. Seeing as I was raised with the Golden Age of pro wrestling and Kayfabe, I knew just the nerves to touch to get the “pencil necked geeks” worked up. It was so easy and they wrote to the editor, with most of their letters ripping me up one side and down the other.
However, when I did the stories of growing up in E.G., I used to get letters sent to me, not the editor, so they were not put in the paper. I did save some and am going to share one with you today.
You never know when you do anything – write, stop and fix a tire, give a homeless person a dollar – what that act means to those people. Most of us do something and move on. The following letter expresses, better than I could, how your actions, and words, can mean more to others than you might think.
I look forward to your musings and sharings. But today’s column on “The Episcopal Kid” – well – I am still crying as I write you. A beautiful tribute to your friend and to yourself – your values, ethics, love and lessons well learned.
Since three of my six adult children have died, I am very vulnerable and Christmas is difficult for me. But, as I read and re-read your thoughts, I feel a healing – just a little – so thank you for this kind of sharing.
We never know when, where, or how we touch the lives of others. This time, you know: You have touched me deeply, a soothing balm to my heart.
Bruce, always honor Christmas in your heart, and try to keep it all year. Those who keep Christmas in their hearts are forever young. I know you are and will always be.
On this Christmas I send to you blessings of love, peace, and laughter to you and your loved ones.
Author’s Note: This was written in 1991. Mrs. S. passed a couple of years ago. It always gives me a “glow” when I read her note.
Bruce Mastracchio writes about the glory days of East Greenwich and his adventures. You can reach him at [email protected]