My So-Called Pen
Pal
by Grace Lu
This year, my parents made
the brave decision to uproot from a predominately
Asian neighborhood in town to another
predominately Asian neighborhood in town that is
farther away from Walmart. As a result, I’ve
spent hours sorting through papers and
undelivered letters, each one more depressing
than the next. Maybe that melancholy stems from
the pang of unspoken sentiment. Or maybe it stems
from the fact that most of the letters looked
like this:
Regardless, I did find one
letter that truly set the bar.
Backstory: My friend
Catherine and I went on a vacation tour with our
families the summer before third grade. We met a
girl named Chen Yao, but instead of telling me
her actual name, she simply said it was Chinese.
I thought her name was “Chinese” for
the rest of the tour. and she didn’t correct
me until the last day. We later wrote this letter,
intending to email Chen Yao whenever “I grow
up and get an email account”.
Dear Chen Yao (Chinese),
Hi! Well, just telling
us who we are, Grace is the girl with a stuffed
animal (bunny) who was friends. Catherine is the
girl who had a stuffed animal, too (bear). You
met us on August 5, 2006 and last saw us on Aug
10. or 11, 2006. Well, I am Grace (and Catherine).
I wonder how you’re doing, we’re doing
fine (and buisy) but what about you? We hope you
can answer this question of mine’s: Is Santa
Claus real? Please mail us back with the answer
of this quest on Also, have a Happy Holidays!
Your
“So Called Pen Pals” !
Grace and
Catherine !
P.S. If you don’t
remember us, you can just write us back and say
this = Stranger
I started to wonder why I
don’t recall sending the email when I
remembered that I had lost Chen Yao’s
address by the time I created my account in sixth
grade. Although in hindsight, that was probably
for the best. We did say “I wonder how you’ve
been doing” as a general pleasantry, but it
seems as if the purpose of the entire letter
was to ask if Santa Claus is real. We were using email
correspondence for a question that is
Googleable. The best-case scenario would’ve
been:
What amuses me even more
than this hypothetical situation is that third
grade me was undecided about Santa’s
existence in the first place. After all, I
stopped believing in Santa in second grade during
Bible study. I know this because I remember the
experience like yesterday:
But now that I think about
it, I do remember watching The Polar
Express in third grade and
realizing that grown-ups are the wrong
ones, which explains a few other Christmases. You
see, I told my parents I no longer believed in
Santa in second grade. Unfortunately, I never
told them I started believing again in
third. So, every Christmas from third to fifth
grade, I woke up to zero presents from Santa and
thought:
Anyways, if you happen to
know a Chen Yao who is Chinese — though I’m
not sure why someone named Chen Yao wouldn’t
be Chinese — feel free to hit me up with her
email address. I’m hoping to reconnect with
my so-called pen pal.
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