More than twenty years ago, the tourism branch of the British Columbia government had a campaign called “Good Show.” British Columbian residents could be nominated for being good hosts and ambassadors to visitors to our province. Little nomination cards were put in strategic places around our communities. Winners of the award were sent a little gold pin with the inscription “Good Host.”
That summer, as I stood in a bank lineup with my sister, I admired the pins. I told my sister that I thought the pins were cool, and that I’d like to wear one. I didn’t think more about it after that.
Later that fall, I received a Good Host pin along with a personal letter from the government commending my “exemplary excellence in the hospitality industry.” I also received a copy of the original nomination letter, sent in by one Becky McGovern from Wichita, Kansas.
Apparently, Becky was visiting family in Vancouver and lost her purse in Stanley Park. Not only did a lovely young woman (yours truly) contact Becky, but she hand-delivered it to the door where she was staying. Needless to say my sister had done some creative writing. I’d never found or returned a purse.
I enjoyed my sister’s joke and thought that was the end of it, but that Christmas I received a card from the fictitious Becky. The year after that, I heard from Becky again. Every Christmas since then, Becky has sent me a Christmas card. She’s developed an astounding personality, and is such a fixture in our family that my parents ask every year, “Have you heard from Becky yet?” Becky is now a middle-aged woman who became a born-again Christian a few years ago and then an ordained pastor in her church. She loves to sing, square dance, and even moved to Beverly Hills one year to pursue her love of acting. Two years ago she remarried a fellow with six other wives and moved to Montana. She always includes a bit of advice about life. She has never been able to recall my husband’s correct name or how many children I have.
I know my sister loves writing that card and probably composes new stories in her head about Becky for weeks ahead of time. I’ve kept them all, including the original letter. And of course I still have the pin.
My sister and I no longer live in the same town, and in our busy lives we don’t talk that often. But every Christmas I’m reminded of that day in the bank—me dreaming of a silly pin and her dreaming up ways to make me laugh. Decades later, I’m still laughing.
Keremeos, British Columbia