Letters from Jean

My sister Jean had moved out on her own by the time I was 3 or 4, so I only recall her not being at home except to visit. She had an apartment in Rochester which, to a kid, was a big city very far away, though it was really only an hour away at most. I did not get to see Jean on a regular basis and missed her, so I wrote her letters and had Mom mail them for me. I would also take a piece of plain white paper, place it over a portion of the dining room tablecloth (which had a textured pattern), rub the long edge of a crayon over the paper, and the pattern would transfer to the paper in the color of the crayon. I did this, and other artsy things, and send them to her along with some narrative. I would, of course, sign the letter "J.B." since that's what everyone in the family called me. Jean replied occasionally with a letter addressed to "Master Jon Perez" which made me feel grown up. She also raved about the art work I had sent her. I had the opportunity to visit her once and, sure enough, my drawings were put up on her fridge. Even though I'm sure she was only being nice to her baby brother, it meant alot to me that she took the time to write back and praise my artistic efforts. You never know what your words/actions mean to a kid.