Free Snowball by Ellen Miles

Dear Mrs. Peabody,
    Knock, knock! (Now you say, “Who’s there?”)
    Isabel!
    (You say, “Isabel who?”)
    Isabel necessary on a bicycle?
    Charles laughed. He showed his letter to his best friend, Sammy. Sammy sat next to him in Mr. Mason’s class. Sammy laughed when he read Charles’s letter. But he also raised his eyebrows and looked over at Mr. Mason. Charles guessed what Sammy meant. He crumpled up the piece of paper and started over. It probably wasn’t good to start a letter with a knock-knock joke, especially to a person he didn’t even know.
    Mr. Mason was a good teacher, but he was pretty serious. He had been teaching about the right ways and wrong ways to write a letter since Thanksgiving. Now it was almost Christmas, and everybody in Room 2B had heard it over and over again. “Say why you are writing the letter at the very beginning,” Mr. Mason said. “And make sure to let the reader know who you are.”
    They had been writing letters for weeks, and Charles felt like he had already written a thousand letters.
    Well, maybe ten.
    At least five.
    There was the one to the President. Charles asked him about how he had named his dog. There was the one to Holly James, his favorite writer. Charles asked her where she got her ideas, and if she had a dog. And there was the one to his parents. This letter explained all the reasons why Charles deserved a really, really good Christmas present this year. Like a dog.
    Charles really loved dogs.
    Now he was supposed to be writing to Mrs. Peabody, who was going to become his Grandbuddy. Every kid at Littleton Elementary was getting a Grandbuddy soon. Each class was going to be visiting The Meadows, which was a place where older people lived. Not sick old people, like in a hospital. These old people lived in their own apartments and took care of themselves, with a little help. But they might get a little lonely sometimes, and maybe their real grandchildren lived far away. That’s where Grandbuddies came in.
    Mr. Mason had given the kids in 2B a little bit of information about their Grandbuddies. Sammy’s was named Mr. Munsell. Mr. Munsell had once been a pitcher in the minor leagues. Charles’s information sheet said that Mrs. Peabody had been a librarian. That was okay, but not as exciting as a baseball player.
    Charles decided to start his letter over, tryingto keep Mr. Mason’s directions in mind. “Tell your Grandbuddy a little bit about yourself,” Mr. Mason had said. “Your family, your likes and dislikes, your favorite food. And don’t forget to ask your Grandbuddy about himself or herself, too. Have fun with it!”
    Maybe Charles had been trying too hard with the “fun” part. Maybe Mrs. Peabody didn’t even like knock-knock jokes.
    Dear Mrs. Peabody,
    Hi! I am going to be your Grandbuddy. My name is Charles Peterson. I am in second grade. I have one older sister named Lizzie. She is in fourth grade. I also have one younger brother named Adam, but we call him the Bean. He’s little. We adopted him when he was a baby. The Bean thinks he is a dog and he likes to bark and drink from a bowl on the floor. My dad is a fireman, and my mom is a reporter.
    Charles stopped writing and thought for a moment. What else could he tell Mrs. Peabody about himself? Mr. Mason said that sharing likes and dislikes was a good way to get to know someone.
    My likes and dislikes are: I like dogs. I mean, I love them. A little while ago my family got to be a foster family for a golden retriever puppy named Goldie. A foster family takes care of a puppy for a little while. And they help find a really good forever home for the puppy, too. Mom says our family isn’t ready for a full-time dog, but she liked having Goldie even though she chewed some stuff up. (Goldie, not Mom.) Anyway, it was the most fun ever, except when we had to give her away. (Goldie, not Mom.) The coolest thing is, the home we