by Katherine G. Bond and Susan Sandler

Dear Frances,
You’re my first pen pal. My brother Wesley says, "Why don’t you just e-mail her?" But I think writing letters is mysterious. It’s what a girl locked in a tower might do. Her paper would be smuggled in by friendly mice. She’d drop letters through the grating to the stable boy, and he’d race them to her long-lost cousin, who planned to rescue her. That’s why I like letters. Besides it’s hard to get on the computer around here. There are seven of us kids. Seven. As in dwarfs. There’s Cameron, Wesley and Ryan (twins), Helene, Juliana, Bethany and me.

I’m Eleanor Roslyn Plovie. I’m 12 and home-schooled. I have an idea! Why don’t we tell one secret in every letter? I’ll go first. When I was little, I had a stuffed hippopotamus named Butch. I used to talk to him when I was scared. Actually, I still talk to him.
Your turn.
Eleanor

Dear Eleanor,
This is Frances. Frances Leigh Marsh. I’m 12, too. You’re the only person I’ve ever known with that many brothers and sisters. Are you the oldest? I’m the only kid in my family, so I get Mom all to myself. I wonder what it would be like to have your mom as your teacher. I’m more like my dad though. I hope you like my letters, but they won’t be as exciting as yours. Locked in a tower? Friendly mice? Where do you come up with those things?

What’s your favorite school subject? Mine is Social Studies. We’ve been learning about Japan. Mrs. Yamamoto, my teacher, is Japanese. She showed us how to put on a kimono. Did you know their socks divide the big toe from the rest of the toes so they can put sandals over them? That’s the best secret I can come up with. W.B.S.*
Your pal,
Frances
*Write Back Soon

Dear Frances,
I’m second oldest, but the first girl. My brother Cameron is 17. My parents thought they wouldn’t have any more. Then whammo! Me and all the others. Like a meteor shower, Dad says. Just you and your mom must be nice. I like my mom. She’s a good teacher. We plant a vegetable garden every year, and on clear nights we try to find Venus. I like home schooling, even though I’m with my family all the time.

I like your secret about Japanese socks. Here’s my next secret: Sometimes I pretend I really am a princess locked in a tower even though I am way too old for that.

What’s your dad like? W.B.S.
Love,
Princess Eleanor

Dear Princess Eleanor,
Mrs. Yamamoto brought us sushi. It was weird! Mom says it’s important to try new things, even if we don’t like them at first. I want to see lots of other countries. Where do you go on vacation? Last Christmas we went to Colorado. It feels like a long time ago. Dad taught me how to ski, but I was scared. You can go really fast on skis. My uncle went with us. Sometimes Uncle Jimbo and I go to movies or he helps me with homework. He’s always playing pranks. Once he set up a whole basketful of laundry to fall on my mom when she opened her bedroom door! She says it’s no different from when they were growing up, only she grew up and he didn’t. I was afraid she’d get mad at him, but they laughed about it.

What’s your dad like? That’s two secrets (one, skiing scares me, and two, Uncle Jimbo and the laundry). I wish I had a Butch. You’re not telling anybody my secrets, are you? S.S.a.L.L.*
Frances
*Sorry Such a Long Letter!

Dear Frances,
You can trust me with your secrets. The weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten was chocolate-covered ants in Louisiana. We went there for vacation last summer (Driving. With the camper. And the dog. It was hot!). I’m not sure they were real ants. My dad said they were, but he’s like your uncle—always playing jokes. Sometimes I think he doesn’t listen to me at all! See the crayon marks on this stationery? That’s where Miss 4-year-old Bethany colored. All Dad said was, "Those are love squiggles. Some day you’ll be happy she gave them to you." This is my only paper for real letters, and by the time I’m happy to have "love squiggles," it’ll be all used up!

I want to live at your house. I told Butch that last night. (Hippopotamuses are good secret-keepers.) It would be quiet. Hey, you still didn’t tell me about your dad.
Love,
Eleanor

Dear Eleanor,
My secret is, I wish I had a bunch of brothers and sisters and a camper and a dog. Here’s another one: I hate gym class. I’m not good at sports. Are you? W.B.S.
Love,
Frances
P.S. Don’t feel funny about your stationery. I like Bethany’s squiggles.

Dear Eleanor,
I hope it’s okay to write even if I don’t have a letter back. Here’s my worst secretæDad left us right after Christmas. Mom got a call from him today. He still won’t say when he’s coming back. They ended up fighting, and he didn’t even talk to me! I wish he was still around, like your dad. I miss him. Maybe if I was a better skier or was good on the computer, he would’ve stayed. Mom always tells me, "It’s not your fault."

Then why did he go? We look alike, and we laugh at the same things, and we both love to eat grilled cheese sandwiches when it rains. He said he’d teach me how to golf. Do you think he’ll come back for that? Mom says we have to believe everything’s going to be okay. I just want to see my dad again.

If I had a Butch, I’d tell him this stuff, but I’m telling you instead. You’re the only friend I can talk to, or write to, right now. I just don’t want this to scare you. I hope your dad never ever leaves you, but if he does, at least you’ve got all those brothers and sisters.
Your Friend,
Frances

Dear Frances,
Wow, I am so, so sorry! I don’t get why your dad would leave. I don’t know how he could stand being away from you. There’s this thing my mom taught us. You do it with your five fingers—one word for each finger. It goes "I will never leave you." It’s from Hebrews 13:5 in the Bible. It’s God. I mean God will never leave you. Is this confusing? I’m a little scared talking to you about the Bible because I don’t know what you believe. It’s just that when I’m really feeling alone (and you can, even in a family this big), I go sit in my favorite tree and talk to God. Does that sound weird?

I sent you something. Look for a package the size of a loaf of bread. I.W.N.L.Y.*
Love,
Eleanor
*You’ll figure it out!

Dear Eleanor,
You don’t have to feel that sorry for me. I can still walk and feed myself. And I still have my mom. But I love that you sent me Butch. He’s so gushy.

I never thought about God being with me. I told Mom what you said. She just smiled and said, "Maybe so." But I know for sure Butch is with me. He’s not going anywhere. I’m lucky to have you for a friend.
Love,
Frances
P.S. I’m going to pray and see if God can get that "I will never leave you" thing through to my dad.

	Q: What did one lightbulb say to the other one? A: “Watt are you doing?” Charles R., 10, Georgia Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe