Dear Miss Etta-Lee

just looking through old things I've tried writing and found this. thought it was kinda cute. but you never really know for sure with your own writing. 

Dear Miss Loretta Moattly,
     I have been told that I am, of sorts, your cousin. To be precise, I am your half-brother’s uncle’s granddaughter’s daughter. I can’t say if that makes me a second, third, forth, twenty-third, or removed cousin. Family trees are not my talent.
     However, I am undoubtedly certain that our relation gives me the right to send you letters. I have been pining away for someone to write to. Mailing notes to your own self becomes dismal very quickly.
Do not bother writing me back if you’d rather not. But please do read my letters. It is much more satisfactorial to write when you know it will be read.
I know you are an old woman. I hope you don’t mind me saying it for it’s just a fact. Most old women I have met seem to think I am a young and foolish child. I am not. Fifteen is a mature age for the most part, and I am a firsthand witness of it.
What strikes me as decidedly odd though, is that many people my age treat you old people as if you were the young and foolish children. It’s not like you know everything, but you sure do know more than me. Particularly stories. Old folks generally tell first rate stories. I can tell good stories, but none from decades ago, and not nearly as many. My story repertoire is quite limited compared to yours.
So, I make it quite clear that I am not writing you because I think you are old and stupid. And I hope you will not read my letters thinking I am young and stupid.
     Quite contrary to that, I am writing you because you are another person. A person who reads. A person who will read my letters. And so that makes you as good as any other person to write to. And a person to write to is what I want most at the moment.
      Because I find it excruciatingly annoying when people run out of paper and write up the sides of their letters, I will end here. You will hear from me again soon.
                Most Definitely Yours Truly,
                                Florence Jo
P.S. I am afraid I had forgotten that “satisfactorial” is not a word. But it is already in ink and cannot be helped. My apologies.