The Letter He Couldn't Improve

Chapter 1The First Version

Yehuda began the letter with Dear Avrumi, then stopped.

Avrumi had been absent from school for two weeks while recovering at home. Their teacher was taking a bundle of letters to his family on Thursday afternoon.

The boys could write a few kind words. No one needed to explain his illness or ask questions he might not want to answer.

Yehuda had known exactly what he wanted to say on the walk home. Now the clean sheet looked too clean for the ordinary words he had brought.

He wrote: We miss you at our table. I saved the funny riddle you liked. I hope you are feeling stronger.

Then he crossed out stronger. Perhaps it sounded as though Avrumi ought to hurry.

He started again.

Chapter 2Five Openings

By Wednesday evening, Yehuda had five beginnings and no ending.

Dear Avrumi looked too formal. Hi, Avrumi looked careless. My dear friend looked like something a grandfather might write.

He tried to make a joke, then worried it would sound as though he didn't understand that Avrumi was unwell.

He removed the joke.

He tried a long sentence about how important friends were. It did not sound like anything he would say at their table.

He removed that too.

His older brother, Shloimy, passed the doorway.

"Are you writing five letters?"

"One."

Shloimy looked at the heap of paper.

"A very crowded one."

Chapter 3The Real Problem

Yehuda showed him the latest draft.

"Is it bad?"

Shloimy read it.

"It says you miss him and remember the riddle. Those are kind things to say."

"But is it the best way?"

"I don't know the best way. Does it say something you mean?"

Yehuda looked at the sheet.

"Yes."

"Does it ask him to answer or explain anything?"

"No."

"Can he read it?"

"Yes."

Yehuda wanted Shloimy to tell him there was no possible better sentence. That was an answer nobody could give him.

Chapter 4The Word He Put Back

Yehuda wrote one fresh version.

Dear Avrumi, We miss you at our table. I remembered the riddle about the man with the empty basket. I am saving it for when you want to hear it. You don't need to write back. I hope your recovery goes well.

Your friend, Yehuda He checked the spelling and read it once aloud.

The words sounded like him. A little plain, perhaps. But he wasn't trying to enter a letter competition.

He folded the sheet and put it in an envelope.

Then he opened the envelope again.

Chapter 5Thursday's Delay

On Thursday morning, Yehuda took the letter to school.

He meant to give it to the teacher before class. Instead he put it under his book. He would check it at recess.

At recess he changed saving to keeping. Then he changed it back.

At lunchtime he wondered whether the basket riddle would be silly.

The teacher put the class letters into a large envelope.

"Any others should be here before the last lesson ends," he said. "I am leaving afterward."

Yehuda felt suddenly hurried. He had spent hours trying to remove the chance of a small mistake, and now he was creating a bigger one: missing the delivery.

Chapter 6One Real Check

Yehuda took out the letter.

There was one actual problem. In his hurry that morning, he had written Thursday's date incorrectly.

He corrected it neatly.

The rest of the page still said what he meant. The handwriting was readable. The note didn't demand a reply, promise a visit he couldn't make, or discuss private details.

He folded it.

His hand paused over the envelope. Perhaps a better ending existed.

A better ending could exist without this one being unkind.

He wrote Avrumi's name on the front and gave the envelope to the teacher.

Chapter 7The Empty Hand

For the next few minutes, Yehuda wanted the letter back.

He imagined the basket joke sounding strange. He imagined another boy's note being much better.

He opened his schoolbook instead of walking to the teacher's desk.

At the end of the day, the teacher took the large envelope and left.

Yehuda could no longer change keeping to saving. He could help clear the tables. He could walk home. He could let an ordinary kind note travel without guarding every word all the way there.

He did those things, though the worry followed him for part of the walk.

Chapter 8No Review Required

The following week, the teacher told the class the letters had reached Avrumi's family.

He did not rank the notes or announce which one had made Avrumi smile most.

Yehuda didn't need to ask.

When he saw Avrumi again some time later, they talked about a game they both knew. The letter was not the entrance ticket to a grateful conversation.

Yehuda was glad he had sent it.

He had wanted the right words so badly that he had nearly kept all his words at home.

The note had needed care, truth, and a legible page.

It had not needed to become the finest letter ever written before it could leave his hand.