It’s “Take Your Poet to School Week,” which seems like the perfect time to share this letter of recommendation from 46 years ago that recently resurfaced.

We lived in Indiana at the time and Mom was stretching her wings as a poet now that her four chicks were all in school fulltime.

Mom attended workshops and seminars for writers. She learned, she shared, she made lasting friendships. Eventually, she hosted poetry readings and workshops of her own.

One friend from a writers workshop invited Mom to speak to her middle-school class.

The event went so well, the teacher provided Mom with a letter of recommendation to send to other schools:

This past spring I decided to be daring and invite a real, live poet into my classroom for the first time. I did so with many misgivings, since I knew my eighth graders had not been very receptive to poetry.

Joan Vayo was the poet who came to Windfall to try to relate to my class. She did such an outstanding job that I consider the two days she spent with us to be a highlight of the year. The kids were spellbound as she explained gently what poetry has meant in her life and then went on to tell them stories about the making of some of her own excellent poems. She encouraged them to write, giving them a list of topics that they could try. The next day they flooded her with poems, and she took time to read each one and make encouraging remarks. Her intelligence, compassion, and gentle nature were an inspiration to me and to the class.

I was particularly thrilled that one brooding hulk of a boy responded in writing for the first time all year. We had an intensive program in prose writing, and Kenny refused to take part, although I tried every trick I could think of. Then along came Joan Vayo, and he poured out the poetry. So did his classmates; they clustered around her after class, and she gave generously of herself. The rest of the year my students pestered me to “get that nice poet lady to come back.”

Any classroom that gets a visit from her will be a warmer, better place.

~ Dorothy Rathbun, July 21, 1976

A few years ago, I asked Mom if there were any friends she hadn’t heard from in a while – that maybe I could find them on Facebook or, sadly, through newspapers.com‘s obituary section.

It didn’t take long to find Dorothy Kennedy on Facebook. Once I heard back from her, we all chuckled about the assumptions made when written correspondence slowed down and eventually stopped. But indeed, Mom and Dorothy were both still alive and were even able to arrange a visit a few days later, as Dorothy was in New England for a visit with her son.

Here’s Dorothy’s reply from when I asked her recently if I could build a blog post around her letter:

I didn’t remember the classroom visit until I saw your post. Then it came flooding back, and I can tell you it’s the pure Irish truth, just as I described it. Your mother could work magic in a classroom. I even taught poetry differently myself after watching her. I would be honored to have you write about this. You may or may not know that the reason we met at that Midwest Writers Workshop so long ago is that we were the only award winners from Hamilton County and some editor sent a photographer to take a picture of us.

Your mother supported me through the divorce that I went through not long after that. I remember one time when I was particularly devastated and I drove to her house without even calling. She put me on the couch with a blanket and brought me a cup of tea. She was nearly a saint, that woman. And then, of course, when she decided/knew the time was right, she put me in touch with Will Kennedy because, she said, “You both have so much love to give.” She was right about that. We had 29 happy years together, all because of Joan Vayo. I loved your mother. Still do, I guess.

Mom loved you, too, Dorothy. And she’d want me to thank you for the many years of friendship you shared.

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