Letters of Gratitude

I have a copy of  Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and its all small stuff by Richard Carlson, Ph.D.  I read a page every now and then and one day he suggested that one should write a letter of gratitude to someone dead or living or something.  I thought it is a brilliant idea and thus, I promised to write as many as I can before I become compost.  So in the following postings, you will be reading them, numbered in no order of importance, although I try to go chronologically. They are also found on my Facebook page (Munam Goodwin Villorante): Here we go:






1st Letter of Gratitude:


Dear Miss Reyes, my 2nd-grade teacher,


Thank you for letting me take countless water fountain breaks, you must have sensed my dread of learning English then. Thank you for letting me learn it on my own terms and for being supportive when I say amazing sentences like "I like to become an atay-at- low sum day!" I finished at the top of my class despite your telling my Dad and writing on my report card that: "She is very intelligent but very very, very talkative in class. She will be an atty-at-law someday." Seriously?


2nd letter of gratitude:


Dear Jose, my classmate in 2nd grade.


You bullied me & taught me to fight back. I still remember you had front teeth extending all the way to the Rock of Gibraltar. I hope you succeeded enough to afford to have them braced. I always remember you with amusement. You made fun of my provincial accent, I having been transplanted to Manila from Central Luzon. You pushed and shoved me on the playground until I learned to push back and made fun of your teeth! So Bozo, if you are still alive, let's have a discussion, in Spanish!


3rd Letter of gratitude:




Dear Miss Piedad Gomez, my 3rd grade teacher,


You were 95% bitch, 3 % dictator, and 2% educator. You screamed your lungs out at us for no reason at all. You emotionally battered the whole class. I do not remember what I learned from you. My friend reminded me that you taught us water therapy- to drink water as soon as we wake up. Now I know why you taught us that: either to clear our heads from our nightmares of you, or so we could all pee our pants when you scream at us at 8:00am: QUIET! GET YOUR BOOKS OUT!!”