Ann Martin - Mary Anne's Book

Now that we were in nursery school together, Kristy, Claudia, and I began playing

together more outside of school, too. Since Kristy lived next door to me and Claudia lived across the Street, it was easy for my sitters to arrange play dates. They were probably thrilled when I went to other kids' houses. That meant they had time off.

My favorite place for us to play was at Claudia's. I thought that, next to my father, Claudia's grandmother, Mimi, was the most wonderful person in the world. "And how are you today, our Mary Anne?" she would ask.

I remember once when I was playing in

Claudia's yard, I fell down and scraped my knee. It was a little scrape that didn't even hurt. But I still let Mimi gather me in her arms and sit me on her lap. "Well, Mary Anne, let's take a look at it." I enjoyed every second of her fussing over me. She brought me inside and cleaned my knee with antiseptic. Then she

suggested I rest with her for a few minutes on the back porch. I sat next to Mimi in the rocking chair and we watched Claudia and Kristy kicking a ball around the yard.

After awhile she asked, "Do you want to play again?" I shook my head no, snuggled even closer, and took a deep breath of the flowery smell that was special to Mimi.

When Mimi died not long ago, Claudia gave me one of her grandmother's silk scarves. It still has that wonderful Mimi smell.

Going to kindergarten with Claudia and Kristy was as-much fun as nursery school. We were always together. We stayed together in first grade, too. But first grade was not as much fun for me as nursery school and kindergarten. That's because our teacher was Mrs. Frederickson.

Mrs. Frederickson's volume control knob seemed to be permanently stuck on extra loud. She was one of those teachers who never spoke softly, but yelled all day long. Being in

Mrs. Frederickson's class was my first expe-. rience with an adult who yelled. I didn't like

it.

Mimi picked us up after our first day of first grade. I made sure to hold one of Mimi's hands as we walked home. Claudia held onto the other one. Kristy didn't seem to mind that there wasn't- a Mimi hand for her to hold. Her hands were occupied with tossing a rubber ball in the air and catching it.

"And how was first grade?" Mimi asked us as we walked along.

"I don't like it," said Claudia. "The teacher's mean."

"I'm going to wear earmuffs to school," Kristy announced. "She yells."

"What about you, Mary Anne?" asked Mimi. "What do you think of first grade?"

"It's okay," I told Mimi.

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze of approval.

"Maybe your teacher was a little bit nervous on the first day," she suggested.

"She's mean all the time," insisted Claudia. "I know it."

"It's good to think in a positive way, my Claudia," said Mimi.

I decided then that I would never complain about Mrs. Frederickson to Mimi. I wanted her to see that I would always "think in a positive

way." I wanted Mimi to love me. Now I know that Mimi would have loved me whether I complained about Mrs. Frederickson or not.

Mimi was the kindest, most understanding woman I've ever known. I used to pretend

that she was my grandmother.

At dinner that evening my father asked, "So how do you like first grade, honey?"

"I don't like it much," I admitted.

"You don't?" he said. He seemed alarmed.

"Why not?"

"There aren't any playtimes. There isn't even a dress-up corner. And no games. The

teacher yells all the time. I want to go back to kindergarten. Claudia and Kristy want to go

back to kindergarten, too. They said so."

My father put on the serious expression he wore when he was teaching me something such as how to print my name or how to put a napkin on my lap before eating. "Now, Mary Anne," he said, "as you go through school you will find that your teachers all have different teaching styles. They aren't going to change because you don't like the way they act. You are the one who has to adjust. I'm

sure Mrs Frederickson is a fine teacher. And

I know you can be a fine student. If you behave and do your work you two will get along fine. I promise you that. Will you do your very best for me?"

I'd do anything for my father, so I promised him I would be a good girl. But I 'made sure to add, "I still don't like when she yells."

"Just remember," he said, "Mrs. Frederick-son is not yelling at you. She's yelling at other kids. The ones who aren't behaving and doing their work." -

I remembered how Mrs. Frederickson yelled at Claudia for drawing a picture of a rainbow instead of practicing the letter "A." And how she'd yelled at Kristy for getting into a fight with Alan Gray during recess. "I don't like it when she yells at anybody," I told my dad.

"Just as long as you're a good girl, I'm sure everything will be fine," he said.

I nodded. But I wasn't convinced. So far the only good thing about first grade was that Kristy and Claudia were in my class.

Even though Mrs. Frederickson was a yeller, I did all right in first grade. I liked the schoolwork and I especially loved to read. I would have read all the time, if there weren't so many other things I enjoyed doing, such as going to the park with my friends and playing at their houses.

After dinner my dad and I would go into the living room and put music on the tape deck. He would do work he'd brought from the office or read the newspaper, and I would read to myself from my picture books. But when it was time for bed and I was cleaned up and tucked in, my dad would read from a chapter book. That was the best. My favorite chapter book that year was Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. I understand now that I identified with Anne because she didn't have a mother either.

Sometimes, when Mrs. Frederickson was yelling at the class, I'd think about what had happened in Anne of Green Gables the night before. (I wanted to put my hands over my ears, but that just would have given her one more thing to yell about.)

The best thing about being six was living near Kristy and Claudia. Kristy's and my bedroom windows faced one another and with the blinds up we could see into each other's

rooms. In warm weather we could talk to each other through the opened windows. Our rooms were so close that sometimes I pretended they were in the same house and that we were sisters.

Claudia had a sister, Janine. Janine was in the third grade and was in charge of Claudia, Kristy, and me when we walked to and from school. Claudia didn't always get along with Janine. They're total opposites. Janine is the bookish type who is a genius when it comes to anything having to do with science or math.

Claudia, on the other hand, has trouble with regular schoolwork, but she is a brilliant artist. Unfortunately, most people - including Claudia's parents - make a bigger deal about being a school genius than being an artistic genius. As a result, Claudia often feels bad about herself when she is around her sister. But since I'm also the bookish type, I was fascinated by Janine. What fascinated me the most was that she could read while she walked, just like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. (That movie hadn't come out yet, so Janine was the only one I knew who could walk and read at the same time.) Janine would walk to school with an open book in front of her face. I knew she was really reading because I'd see her turn the pages.

Claudia and Kristy liked that Janine was

reading instead of watching us. "It's just like we're walking alone," said Claudia.

"We're very grown-up," added Kristy.

Meanwhile, at home I was trying to teach myself to walk and read' at the same time. One Saturday afternoon, my dad found me standing in the upstairs hail reading Horton Hears a Who by Dr. Seuss. "Mary Anne, wouldn't you be more comfortable in a chair or on the couch?" -