Hush.

To: Mrs. Hayman

To: Mrs. Hayman

From: Annie Davis

Subject: Final journalism project

Dear Mrs. Hayman,

Through perseverance and hard-work, I have finally procured something adequate enough to hand over to "leave senior year with a bang", as you would put it. Of course, considering I graduated a few weeks ago, maybe this can be a "leaving Heart with a bang" kind of thing.

I know the attached collection of articles and interviews probably won't be what you expected--it definitely wasn't what I thought I would end up with--but it doesn't change the fact that it's the best work I have done in my four years under your guidance. I'm more than proud to slap my name at the bottom, and you always told me that there's nothing better than a well-written article with your name attached. You're right, Mrs. Hayman. It feels good.

I've learned a lot in my life, and been through more hardshisp than I care to admit. But this final year taught me a lot about myself I didn't know. And a lot of that credit is owed to a particular man. You've been at Heart for a while, but I don't know if you know him or not. Mr. Matthews? He's a swell guy. Too wise if you ask me, but he always knew the right thing to say. He passed recently, and one of my best friends, his granddaughter, inspired me to write this article.

Simply writing it all out cannot even begin to scratch the surface of the magnitude of his impact on the lives he touched. And I wanted to capture that in the best way I could. He helped a depressed girl with every intention to kill herself find some source of light in the world. He helped a boy with a crappy home-life break social barriers and find out what it was he really wanted out of life. He was even there to assisst the woman's daughter, so wrecked with a painful past, overcome her demons, and he helped a jaded boy find new purpose in waking up each morning. He offered clarity to a young couple with a love tainted by cancer, and to another with a love battered by infidelity. He took in a boy running from his own mental disorder like he was his own son, at the same time healing the weeping wounds in his own granddaughter. And he found the jagged holes within my own self, filling them with unforgettable pieces of wisdom and advice. He was a man who loved everybody, and was loved by everyone.

I don't know that this article will mean as much to you as it does to me, or the granddaughter, or the jaded boy, but I hope it will. I hope it will stand out and say as much about that man's character as a written account can. Because he loved life with a ferocity that we could all learn something from. He told me himself that I had to burn bright while I could, because sooner or later all I'd have left was charcoal.

And how right is he about that?

Sincerely,

Annie