Dear Friend of The McClelland School:
One morning last month, our front door bell rang.
Upon opening, we discovered a lady of eighty-seven years, accompanied by family members. She was coming to visit, having asked if she could return to the place she called home some seventy-five years before
when she and her siblings had lived under McClelland’s roof.
As Jo Nesbit slowly walked her around our campus, she needed a little help from her children in climbing our imposing staircase to the second and third floors. However, there was nothing slow about her mind, and she regaled all with stories about every nook and cranny in our historic building. Every room held stories for her, and she told of her adventures (today, she and I would have spent lots of time together in my office!), under the generally benevolent eyes of the staff.
It was a pleasure to make this visit possible for her, and she left happy.
Each year, we have a handful of such visitors, people of varying ages who knock on the big, red front door and ask to look inside again. Through their child’s eye, they each remember it as being much bigger and imposing. We love this opportunity to learn just a little more about our collective history. We understand that we are the present stewards of not just this grand old building, but of the thousands of individual stories, as well.
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