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Dad is cleaning out the attic in his office in Calhoun and so he has been bringing me treasures for weeks now. Letters upon letters between Wade street and Harrison Ave. Camila was the best of pen pals. Old purses with buttons all over them and wicker frogs. I wonder now how cool I must of thought these things were. Then he hands me the last letter that Grandmother Hare wrote to me before she died. She was ever generous with her words. We have books full of them that I hold close to my heart. I read the letter and when my darling came home I told him to read it. I explained that this was who lived across the street from me while I was growing up. This woman with all of her cats and worn out blue head bands molded my life for the good. He read the letter and stood in amazement. He then told me how he'd never gotten a letter like that in his life. It was full of praise and goodness. It oozed with encouragement and confidence that the world would be my oyster. Every time she saw me she would hug me and tell me how much she loved me. Sometimes I hear her words today when doubt creeps in about the validity of what I'm doing or when I fear I have failed to be all that I was meant to be. They say for every single negative thing you say to someone it takes ten positive statements to counteract that one. Let us all offer up praise to God and to one another. It just might change someone's life.