[Elle Bruno]

Yeah, you're one classy dame.
And you will be oh-so-missed.
Elle

[RA Dusenberry]

Thank you for the time and care you've given - you will be missed.

Annie

[Lance Levens]

Magistra, the class won't be the same without your pastoral hand, but we're all looking forward to the fruits of your new labors.

[Rick Mullin]

Thanks for everything, Maryann.

[Allen Tice]

Mix Rory Waterman's reply with Michael Cantor's, pour off a tad, and that's my comment. You've been good.

[W.F. Lantry]

And now, an operatic script, in two parts:

Scene: a frozen ice castle, somewhere in Minnesota. Painted clouds hover on the backdrop, moonlight casts cold but glistening shadows on the frozen scene.

Enter: a tenor, dressed in black, complete with cape. Hat in hand, he begins a long, sad adagio aria of lamentation and loss. It's all in italian, and the surtitles aren't working, but we can catch a few words here and there: "Maryann", "Stepping down" "Alackaday!" "All is lost!" "What shall we ever do?" He swoons at the end, a dying swan, and drops lifeless to the stage. Applause. Curtain.

But wait. What's this? The orchestra kicks up again. The curtains part. A coloratura appears, singing a light, allegro song of celebration and joy! The durned surtitles still don't work, but she's singing of freedom, and poetry, and time, and peace. The ice castles melt. The new flowers of spring bloom all around her! Flourish! Finis! Applause.

And now the whole cast is bringing out the opera manager for a round of applause. She's the one who shows the star how to sing, who corrects the first violin, and keeps the set director in line with just a glance. She basks a little while in the gratitude and thanks of the cast, the orchestra, the stage hands, and the audience. Then she's off, to write and think. And she won't have to worry, any longer, about that costume designer with the glad eye, or the choir members stepping outside for a quick smoke, and missing their cue. She has a seed catalog in her hand.

Thank you, Maryann. Speaking strictly for me, you made me feel welcome here from the start, helped me through some difficult moments, and did everything with an admirable sense of grace and ease. And joy. Especially joy.

Thanks,

Bill

[Allen Tice]

Will somebody fix those subturtles, please.

[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

I too, will miss you greatly. Your grace and tact are the hallmarks of a truly noble woman Maryann.

[Cally Conan-Davies]

Well, I just love you, and always will. You possess generosity and grace in unusual amounts, Maryann.

Mostly, though, it's your knowledge about poetry and your poetic skill I treasure. You were the first to crit the first poem I ever wrote, and that crit contained everything I needed to know from that day on. From there, it was only a matter of me practising what you preached. I can't wait to read more of you now.

It's impossible to thank you. It goes too far. But thank you anyway, Maryann!

Cally

[Clive Watkins]

Thank you, Maryann, for all your patient and good-humoured efforts on behalf of members – a fine example to everyone. Let us remember, as well, the exemplary quality of your own work.

Best wishes

Clive