I had avoided telling my own stories orally, because I felt inadequate to make a story interesting. But I realized I need to, or I’d have to pack a storyteller in my suitcase to all the places I go to.
The last school in my Cebu book tour—where I told the story of The White Shoes—was hurried because I had a plane to catch. Lynnie, the book lady of OMF Lit Cebu, kept reminding me of the few minutes I had left. But I got so engrossed I forgot the time.
“Let’s go, “Lynnie nagged, “our cab is waiting!”
That was when I noticed one of the kids crying and being comforted by her teacher. I rushed to her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
The teacher explained, “She left your book at home. She would have wanted you to sign it.”
Oooh, I gave her a tight hug and cooed, “That’s okay. Even without my signature, that book was written for you.”
But she was inconsolable. And I had to dash out.
The image of her crying haunted me till I got home, so I told son #3 about it. He was incredulous, “Mom, you could have bought her a book from the book table, and signed it!”
Oh, no! Why didn’t I think of that!?
To atone for my gaffe, I messaged her teacher and asked for the kid’s name. I signed two of my books, wrapped them up, and sent them via courier to her school.
The next day, her teacher messaged me with these attachments.
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