told me to tell you

When I was in second or third grade, my best friend and I, charged with a duty to fundraise for our school and motivated by the chance to win a frantic minute in the flying money box, set out one afternoon to sell some World's Finest Cholocate. For whatever reason, we decided that her block would be better than mine, tragically unaware that the lack of foresight that we demonstrated in not coming up with a thorough plan for the distribution of our labor was about to cause catastrophe.

One of her neighbor's bought three chocolate bars from me; that is, six dollars into my manilla envelope, and not hers. And she was pissed. An argument over who had the right to sell candy to that particular neighbor ensued, escalated, and culminated in my hair getting pulled. (I'm going somewhere with this, by the way.) This is the way that I remember the incident, although I'm sure she recalls it differently.

Anyway, I ended up running home crying, and darting down to my parents' office in the basement to relate my tale of woe to my mom. I can't remember her advice, but it must have been sufficient for helping me to move on; because, I was making my way back upstairs to my room when I passed the back door and happened to engage in what was to be one of the most poignant scenes of my life. My friend stood there, her cheeks stained with tears. "MY MOM SAID TO TELL YOU I'M SORRY!" she said, in a kind of heavy-metal sing-song. "FINE!" I responded. And it actually did end up being fine, much to both of our relief.

Yesterday I had the honor of attending an awards banquet put on by the College of Education for the purpose of recognizing outstanding scholars and giving them a chance to thank their scholarship sponsors. I was seated at a table with my parents and two of my brothers, a classmate, her father, and the grandson of the sponsor of a scholarship I was given.

Throughout brunch, my sponsor's grandson told me about his grandmother and her commitment to education. She sounds like a really interesting and admirable woman, and so when it was time for me to accept my scholarship and say a word of thanks, I was sincere in my gratitude for being awarded in her name.

After pictures with the Dean, I went back to my table and handed the folder with the certificate in it to my mom so that she could have a look. Amused, she handed it back to me, calling my attention to the flyer inside that reads in CAPS locked, bolded italics, "PLEASE MAKE SURE TO HAND WRITE YOUR NOTE TO YOUR DONOR" It goes on:

SAMPLE:
Dear Dr./Mr. or Mrs. Donor:

1st paragraph

• tell why you are writing
• refer to scholarship by its name

2nd paragraph

• talk about where you are from, year of study & your major/focus
• you may want to reveal why you chose to attend UIUC
• point out your accomplishments, professional affiliations or oranizational involvement

3rd paragraph

• close by sharing your goals & future plans
• be sure to thank the donor for their generosity in providing this scholarship and tell the donor how their support has made a difference

Thank the donor again.

Sincerely,
Your name

Give me a freaking break; this is hilarious. Recalling the World's Finest adventure, I've got this image of myself standing slouched at this woman's back door, apathetically mumbling, "The College of Ed told me to tell you I'm grateful."