Dear Mrs. Cleaver
For the real "Mrs. Cleaver" and everything cool she's done for me and the other
students in her class.
It was the end of the school year, and it was my family's
tradition to give the teacher we had that year a present or something special.
I didn't want to give Mrs. Cleaver, my teacher, just any old thing. I wanted
something special. One problem there was I didn't know what.
My brother Matt, a blue Chia with flat blue
hair, and I pondered until the end of the Month of Relaxing for what to get
her. Matt was a cheapskate, so he bought his teacher a berry sketch book. I
didn't rely too much on him. The night before the last day of Neoschool my owner
(aka Mom or Lynn) had an idea that Matt and I were stupid to not think of. Write
Mrs. Cleaver a letter. It was brilliant. What kind of school did she go to?
She was a genius or something.
I sat down at around six o'clock to write the
letter. My last problem was what to say. I didn't want to have a kiss up letter,
or a dull "you were the best hope you have a good summer" letter with excessive
run on sentences. My little faerie Gelert mind was running at a speed of about
a million miles per minute. Then, it came to me around my bedtime. Lynn wasn't
too happy about that.
I scratched my Neopian Times quill on the paper
faster as it formed the words in curly, bubbly cursive. When I was finished,
the letter read as follows.
"Dear Mrs. Cleaver,
My family has a tradition of giving a teacher
a present at the end of the year. I didn't want to get you something cheap and
get it over with like my brother would do. I also didn't want a boring letter
or something. So this is what I'm giving you.
I didn't like you in the beginning of the year.
I don't know why, you were the best teacher I've ever had. Probably because
on the first day I was scared of you. No offence. You were kind of strict, but
I'm here to compliment you… so here you go.
You are the nicest teacher ever. You helped
me boost my grades up, and helped me when I was picked on. I can't call you
a teacher anymore, but I can call you a friend. You're better than almost any
friend I've had.
I had a weird dream a few nights ago that we
were in a school play together. I don't remember much of it. I just remember
that you had the main part. And Mr. Voldemort was the villain… now that's a
dream I gotta write down!
I couldn't help but laugh in your class. Even
when you didn't intend it, you were funny. Just how you apologize for homework…
it wasn't something to make fun of, I just thought it was really funny and was
a great characteristic. Some would describe you as "a bit too nice" but I really
don't think so.
In conclusion, I'll miss you next year. You
were the greatest teacher I've ever had, and that's really saying something.
Thanks for… well, everything.
I closed the letter
and put it in my backpack. I was wondering how I was going to get it to her.
With that thought I fell into my bed and fell asleep.
The next morning I decided to put the letter
on Mrs. Cleaver's desk while she was in the hallway talking to the other teachers.
I didn't want to end the year in a scene where she and I were crying and hugging
each other 'till the Kaus come home. The last day was hard too. Cleaning out
our lockers, signing each other's yearbooks and binders… Mrs. Cleaver kind of
stayed out of the way. As a white Cybunny, her characteristics did not fit.
Most Cybunnies are spunky, hyper type of people, but my teacher was quiet and
sensitive to sad things. That was a great characteristic of her. It was something
I wouldn't forget.
I went home that day almost crying. I didn't
want Lynn or Matt to see that I was almost crying over the end of the school
year. It was a little embarrassing.
My friend invited me over to go swimming at
her house. I went to take my mind off of it, and plus, her pool was awesome!
I mean, hey, it was summer! A student should be happy, right? After all, it
was a whole three months without homework.
It was a month into summer vacation, and I almost
completely forgot about giving Mrs. Cleaver the letter. Lynn was checking our
Neomail, and came in looking surprised.
"Anzu…" she said as she handed me a white envelope
with unnaturally neat cursive handwriting with thin loops. I'd know this handwriting
anywhere. "It's from your teacher… Mrs. Cleaver…"
I couldn't believe it either. I read the letter
over and over. This is what it said.
I'm sorry I didn't get this to you sooner. I
had just "rediscovered" your letter. I have to say, it was really sweet of you!
This is way better than any other letter or present I've received!
I can understand why you didn't like me in the
beginning of the year. I know I'm strict! I've also have been called "intimidating,"
if that's what you mean too. ? With people like the boys in our class this year,
you kind of have to.
I'm truly honored that you can call me a friend.
I guess I can call you a friend too! I really like your personality. You are
such a great person! And not to mention, you have good grades. It sure beats
writing down an F in the grade book!
Yes, I know I apologize for homework. I kind
of like to, and tell the class that I have a good reason for something like
that. Especially on Fridays… and you kind of get used to that after teaching
for… oh… years.
Haha... I'll miss you too! Maybe you can come
to see me after school sometimes? I run the school newspaper, so if you want
to join that, I'd love it! You write really well, I don't know why you hadn't
joined last year!
Sorry for the short letter. Write back! I'm
really looking forward to another reply!
I grinned and laughed a bit. Mrs. Cleaver always
seemed to be late. I re-read it about ten more times in delight. I wasn't expecting
a reply! And she wanted me to write back too! I was so excited I was laughing
out loud. Lynn thought I was going insane.
"Anzu…?" she said cautiously. "Are you… okay?"
I stopped to say, "Yes Mom, I'm just positively…
She laughed, "Heh… okay. Just wondering!"
And before I was about to write a reply, I waltzed
into the living room.
"Oh Maaaatt…. What did your teacher send you?"
Author's Note: Based on (not entirely) a true story and a few inside jokes
between my friends and I last year.