Claire MacDonagh
I started reading and writing at a young age. On my 5th birthday, my parents gave me the greatest gift of my young life…a manual typewriter. The joy of having my very own typewriter to type poetry, stories and notes to people in my world was overwhelming and I happy-cried until I started choking. My daddy saved my life by swinging me by my ankles and simultaneously slapping my back until I could breathe again. He finally put me down when I screamed for him to stop. My parents gave me a voice with that typewriter and I typed something every single day until my fourteenth birthday.
The following are a few of my favorite funny and sometimes poignant notes that I typed from that day forward.
Dear Mother, I was so scared today when that man tried to take me from Perry’s Corner. I will never forget his words, “Do you want a stick of gum little girl?” before he tried to grab me. I love you and Mr. Perry for saving me.
-Claire, Age 5
Dear Roy, that was my daddy howling like a wolf while we were camping in the backyard. You were so scared! I wish you had stayed with me instead of crying and running home. Daddy’s dog stayed in the tent with me. Be a brave boy next time!
-Claire, Age 6
Dear Jimmy, Mother said I must apologize to you for breaking into your safe. So, I’m sorry, but I’m not.
-Your sister, Claire, Age 6
Dear Papa, I won’t tell Gan Gan that I sneak candy for us to eat when you visit. That’s our secret. Thank you for reading with me. I love you so much.
-Claire, Age 7
Dear Mother, I was so excited when you told me our New Mexico cowboy cousins were visiting us today. Why didn’t you tell me they were going to murder Ringo? You know Ringo was my favorite bull and my best friend. I’m running away tonight and taking my horse and daddy’s dog with me. DON’T LOOK FOR US!
-Claire, Age 7 1/2
Dear Daddy, Jimmy and I were having a rock fight with the Larson boys and my bedroom window was broken. Jimmy and I DID NOT throw the rock that broke the window. The guilty person was the oldest Larson boy, the one you said was a problem. Please don’t spank us for protecting our house from those rotten boys. Just remember, Jimmy and I are the heroes here.
-Claire, Age 8
Dear Mother, today Jimmy shot my foot with the bb gun you and daddy bought him for Christmas. Please punish him.
-Claire, Age 8
Dear Mother, the reason I secretly ride my horse into town and check out books at the library is because you only give Jimmy and me music books. I know you’re mad that I snuck into town. I didn’t return the books and owe a lot of overdue fees to the library, but it’s really your fault for not giving me reading books. Please don’t sell my horse, he’s innocent. P.S. I didn’t deserve to be spanked.
-Claire, Age 9
Dear Mother and Daddy, last night I heard you talking about selling Old Sam after my accident. It wasn’t his fault that he bucked me against that old oak tree at InterHarvest. I was riding native and had him running too fast around the building corner. I love him so much and will ride again when my broken back heals. Please keep him for me. You know I’m untamed, Gan Gan’s word for me, but I pinky swear to ride more carefully. I’ll surely die without him.
-Claire, Age 9
Grandpa, you’re a mean man and I don’t like you. Don’t speak to me when you visit. I don’t care if you show daddy this note, he knows you are the devil.
–Claire, Age 9 1/2
Dear Mother, when Jimmy and I misbehave, you tell us the reform school director wants to speak with us. Just so you know, those phone calls do not scare two tough country kids. We demand to know who you asked to impersonate a child jailer.
-Claire, Age 10
Dear Reverend, Jimmy and I were spending our offering money at the Circle K because we like candy a lot more than we like your sermons. Mother spanked both of us after you told her. You’ll need to find someone else to play the piano and sing during Sunday sermons because we’re not returning. Good luck.
-Claire, Age 11
Dear Mother, Jimmy and I know what you and daddy are doing when you lock us out of the house on Sunday afternoons. We tried to peek in your bedroom window and heard you. We are not dumb kids.
-Claire, Age 12
Dear Mother and Daddy, Dart the Fart pushed me down the school bus steps today and made me cry. He’s mean and I don’t like him one bit.
-Claire, Age 12
Dear Mother, I want to play the flute, but you said it’s just a big whistle. Yes, I already play the piano, trumpet and clarinet, but I’m talented and want to play the flute too. Please don’t hold me back from my musical aspirations. I’m asking you to reconsider. P.S. We’re Irish and it’s a sin not to play music.
-Claire, Age 13
Dear Mother, today you told Jimmy and me that you were leaving us. You said one day we would understand why you couldn’t love daddy anymore. I won’t type another word if you agree to stay. Please don’t leave us.
–Claire, Age 14
The End
Claire was raised in Southern California, the daughter of a Grapes of Wrath Irish Okie father and a Scottish Native American mother. She started writing at the age of 5 when her parents gave her a manual typewriter for her birthday. She enjoys outdoor activities, entertaining friends with her sense of humor, and occasionally rapping at parties. She’s a recent brain tumor survivor and appreciates life more after her experience.