Letter to children, June 3, 1983:
It's really been a week of mixed emotions, but who could really feel sad about not being in school the last two hectic weeks? I'm gloating while others fret over completing final forms which nobody ever looks at, making out exams, juggling figures trying to pass undeserving kids who have loafed all year and are now desperate because they may not graduate, and cleaning out the accumulated junk of another school year.
Teachers arrive home wiped out only to read another article in the newspaper (when they finally have time to relax for a moment) lambasting the public schools and complaining that school teachers aren't worth the pittance they are paid. So, as a whole, I'm happy about retiring and looking forward to this next era of life. Of course, the children, especially those who had been bedeviling me most this semester, sprouted halos on Tuesday and wrote loving tributes in the book they gave me and acted like they couldn't bear to have me leave.
Everyone is making me feel very special. Aunt Mary made the loveliest set of mats and table runner, which must have taken months, and wrote a note saying she wasn't smart enough to write a book or a poem but wanted to do something. I told her the ability to create something so beautiful was more brilliant than a bit of writing...
A speech to the Rotarians was Superintendent Jones' last order for me. It went off so well I felt like something of a celebrity. Mr. Sullivan told me that Mr. Jones spent 45 minutes at their principals' meeting that afternoon talking about it and me.