When Boxing Day comes around, I always think of Miss Leach. A tiny, white-haired English lady with the demeanor of the kindest saint, she taught hand-sewing lessons to little girls in the suburbs of Portland, Ore., in the 1960s and early 1970s. I’m not sure how these classes were set up, but once a week Miss Leach would arrive via city bus in one corner of town or another and preside over a dozen or so girls in someone’s basement rec room. I attended her classes off and on over the course of at least three years, honing my skills with blanket and running stitches on an assortment of small projects, culminating with a rick-rack-trimmed sleeveless shift, completely stitched by hand, which I proudly wore all one summer. As children, our curiosity never stretched to wonder how or why she came to America or how she survived on the fifty-cent fee she charged each of us for her patient instruction in the art of creating a felt comb holder, coin purse or sewing kit. At some level, I knew she probably barely scraped by; in my mind’s eye I can still see the faded, battered cardboard suitcase she lugged about containing the fabric, thread and trims which she helped us transform into gifts for friends and family. I recall that all of one fall she used a length of ribbon draped over one ear to replace the earpiece which had broken away from her glasses, until one of the mothers took her to an optician and purchased new frames for her. No, Miss Leach never really talked about her current life, except to speak lovingly of her dear cats (how many was unclear) with whom she shared what I imagined was a small, neat apartment somewhere. She did keep a room full of potentially squirmy and chatty girls in thrall, though, with stories of her childhood in a wonderfully foreign place called England (that’s where Mary Poppins was from!). She was the first person I knew who came from another country, and in her soothing, gentle accent she told us of holidays and celebrations we had never heard of. Thus I was introduced to Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, and Guy Fawkes Day and realized that beyond the United States was a whole world of interesting places and people whose lives were quite different from mine. That sweet, humble lady could certainly be said to have provided me with my first personal experience with the similarities and differences of someone from another culture – and a positive, memorable experience it was! — Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor