Writing Personal Writings: The Art Of Letter Writing

Some people say the art of letter writing is dead. I say letter writing is alive and well . . . at least for me. In fact, writing personal letters to my students at the end of each semester has become a trademark of mine. Each year, as I write Christmas cards to my students, I remind myself of the power of writing, and how it touches others. And each year this tradition also reminds me of my former student Lorenzo and the lesson he taught me: that as a teacher I never know what it is that will help a student connect—even something as unexpected as a Christmas door-decorating contest.

In the late 1980s, with seven years of experience behind me, I was teaching language arts at James Pace High School in Brownsville, Texas. One otherwise uneventful day, my principal, Mr. Valent, called me into his office. Once I was seated, he began the conversation by telling me that I was a "great teacher." (I know now to beware of any conversation with an administrator that starts like this, but at the time his words simply thrilled me.) Mr. Valent went on to say that he wanted me to try a new and different challenge. Our district, he explained,

He was in the intensive care unit. Visitors were not allowed, but it was Christmas and no one was around, so I snuck in. The boy in the bed didn 't look like Lorenzo. His small, helpless body—wrapped in bandages and sheets—had tubes and wires coming out of everywhere; his face was swollen and disfigured. I held his hand in mine and told him who I was. I wasn 't sure if he knew I was there—he could not speak, eat, drink, or move—or if he was even conscious. A nurse spotted me and asked if I was a relative. I confessed that I was Lorenzo 's teacher. Instead of asking me to leave, the nurse told me that hearing is the last sense a person loses, so if I wanted to talk to him that maybe he could hear me. As I spoke to him, I began to