The sorting and de-cluttering continued, and yesterday it brought another surprise. In a drawer filled with ribbons, buttons and forgotten small tools—we found a silver T.
Well, not just a silver T but “the” silver T.
At the high school I attended, Truro Senior High, the author of the poem judged to be the best of the year was awarded the silver T. In my Grade 12 year, that honour fell to me, for my “Reflections.” (It’s in the yearbook as I recall.)
I didn’t go on to write much poetry after high school—though I did have my main character write a bit of poetry in my first novel, Thomas, A Secret Life.
Nonetheless, that silver T meant something to me. I guess I saw it as a pat on the back from my Grade 12 English teacher, Miss Helen Beveridge.
As things worked out, I would go on to write quite a bit over the years to come. The encouragement from Miss Beveridge, in the shape of a silver T, was an important step along the way.
Looking closely at the T, I notice that my name pretty much fills the space. Do you think that’s how they picked the winner, by the length of one’s last name? Did anyone with a longer name have to be ruled out?