Mom, too, closed the door of her Kindergarten classroom for the summer, although she still persisted in pursuing various projects which related to her employment during her free time. She was home, however, and that was the most important thing. It seemed to me that life was returning to normal and I felt less alienated from society since there was more activity surrounding my home. Despite other changes I still looked forward to mail, especially with the advent of my subscription for pen pals; however, I also found my other mailings to be of great interest, and appreciated each envelope with my name on it. An advertisement for the sale of Christmas cards found its way into my hands one morning, and after reading all of the information, I wondered if I should try to sell the cards door to door for added Christmas income. As I mulled over the idea, Mom noticed the pile of literature scattered upon the kitchen table, and briefing herself slightly, proclaimed that it would be a wonderful way to "present myself to people" through my own initiative and heartily applauded the idea. Several days of thought ensued before I decided to sell the cards; the profit eventually cinched the matter, overshadowing my fear of knocking on doors and being rejected by potential customers. It was fun to see my neighbors, and I felt comfortable standing outside their doors even if my visit was basically business related. I walked up and down my block, collecting orders and trying to gain courage through the sales which I had already enlisted, for I would soon scout further territory wherein I knew few names and equally few faces. As I had suspected, my sales declined rapidly once I ventured outside of the neighborhood, and my bravery and spirit departed "en masse." I had detested trying to sell Girl Scout cookies, and I strained to find a reason why I felt that selling cards would prove to be any different. It was different, however, because it was worse; no one recognized the company whose cards I was attempting to sell, and furthermore, I had to collect the money and make the necessary change (which horrified me) at the time of the order, rather than the delivery of the cards. I soon had more than enough refusals to warrant my dismissal of any idea of making further sales. June 25, 1976... Got dressed and went out on 53rd St. selling (or trying to sell) my cards. No one bought a thing. A lot of 'em gave excuses like, "I just got home from the hospital" and "I buy from a girl down the block and don't want to hurt her feelings" ETC. !! What do they think they're doing to me?