April 10, 2017. Madison, Mississippi. Miss. Tomlinson.

The other day I was looking through my old writing case and came upon letters written to me over the years from Miss Tomlinson.   The letters are short, many written on a card and span many years.   I must have saved a dozen letters from her out of the many I eceived.  I have notes about Andrew's birth and from just before she died.  Her image in my mind brought back a huge number, reminding me of my grandmother and more importantly, old time teachers.

Miss. Tomlinson lived in Peterborough, Ontario, where we also lived for 5 years.   She taught my brother in the fourth grade as well as Sunday school and she became a dear friend of my grandmother.  They were cut from the same cloth: both well educated and literary, true proper Victorian ladies but spirited   I do not know where they met but probably at The Salvation Army, where my father was in charge of the Corps.  My grandmother and Miss. Tomlinson exchanged letters every month until my grandmother died.   She always spoke of my grandmother as "my drear friend Mrs. Houghton".

Miss. Tomlinson was of an age when the only job for an unmarried clever lady was to be a teacher or a nurse.   She chose teaching.  Perhaps that was why we kept attached all those years because I became a teacher too.   From reading her notes, I could tell we had discussed our latest books and journeys.  She was a well read lady even when she was old.  When she was mostly house bound, she loved me to tell her what we had gone and done.  She was quite a lady.  And she loved the children.

I am reading Van Loones Lives, a book she gave to me when she died and wanted me to read.  I am finally doing as I was told.  She was an old fashioned gracious lady.  And she loved teaching.  I was so pleased to re-read her wise words.   She was one of a vanished kind.