When I was a girl at the later end of primary school I was mad about Anne Digby's Trebizon school series, now published by Fidra Books. I used to save like mad to buy my copies and had often half read them in the bookshop before I had the pennies to invest in my own copy. Once I was so engrossed in one of her books whilst waiting for my Dad to finish shopping elsewhere in town, I was locked into W. H. Smiths after closing time. Fortunately the manager was still on the premises to let me out when I realized I was caged.
I loved Anne Digby's books so much that in 1984 I wrote and told her so. A few weeks later we arrived home to a card from the postman saying a parcel was waiting to be collected from the depot. This was quite a big thing outside of birthday and Christmas time. Prior the days of Internet shopping when I seem to get a parcel quite often, parcels were a fairly rare thing in most households I think. This card was so amazing and so puzzling that my parents bundled me and my sister into the car and we set off straight away for the drive to the depot speculating on what the parcel might be.
Once retrieved the parcel was, unbelievably, for me! It was March: no birthday, no Christmas. What could it be? Who could it be from?
I opened it in disbelief as a beautiful hardback book emerged along with a letter. Anne Digby had taken the time to both reply to my letter and to send me a copy of one of her books, A Horse Called September which was not available in the UK. I must have spent the evening reading and re-reading that letter. The book was wonderful - it still is too, I re-read it about six months ago and it has stood the test of time.
The feelings I got on receiving that letter and book have stayed with me till this day. Never again will I be as overwhelmed by a parcel as I was at that moment. I am sure Anne Digby's kindness affected the reader I became as an adult, and the bookseller I now am.
How spooky!
I mentioned the wonderful Trebizon books in my post today!
Posted by: Kit Courteney | October 13, 2008 at 04:23 PM
How wonderful! What a thoughtful lady, and such a delightful gift for you.
Posted by: Cornflower | October 14, 2008 at 11:42 AM
What a lovely story and how kind of Anne Digby. Not like Ringo Starr pompously announcing that he's not going to open or answer fan mail anymore - oh but do carry on buying all my crap overpriced memorabilia please . . .
When I worked at Random House, we were editing the Roald Dahl Treasury and I heard from his publisher that Dahl used to write back frequently to his young fans. He sent this poem to the Priory School in Dorset about a year before his death. The teacher at the school asked the children to write to Dahl and he wrote back:
"My teacher wasn't half as nice as yours seems to be.
His name was Mister Unsworth and he taught us history.
And when you didn't know a date he'd get you by the ear
And start to twist while you sat there quite paralysed with fear.
He'd twist and twist and twist your ear and twist it more and more.
Until at last the ear came off and landed on the floor.
Our class was full of one-eared boys. I'm certain there were eight.
Who'd had them twisted off because they didn't know a date.
So let us now praise teachers who today are all so fine
And yours in particular is totally divine."
Posted by: Jane | October 16, 2008 at 05:30 PM
It is a lovely story, and as other Jane says, such a contrast to Ringo Starr (and why would I want his autograph anyway?)
Posted by: Jane | October 17, 2008 at 09:21 AM
Yes, Janes-both and Cornflower, I think small acts of kindness, especially with children, have very far reaching effects. I suppose Ringo is fed up of 40 years of being public property but it still seems a bit ungracious.
Thank you Kit for your comment too. I thought I had added your blog to my links but realise I hadn't. Sorry! Oversight now corrected!
Posted by: Juxtabook | October 18, 2008 at 02:41 PM