Hello Mr. President

The large paneled door to the front part of the house opened wide, and there he was. There was the one I had been waiting to meet. There was the one for whom I had done scrubbing and cleaning and baking. There was the man who had lived in the White House some years ago, the one who had met with world leaders. There was the man who had served as the President of our country, and he was standing right in front of me, right here in my house. He looked so tall and so handsome. His head was covered with lots of grey hair, and he looked very presidential in his tailored navy blue suit. His eyes were smiling as he walked straight toward my family and me. Kind and gracious words fl owed from his mouth as our hands grasped—another Emily Post moment. Then his tall body squatted down right in front of Sara and Julica, and he looked straight into their eyes and shook their hands. Julica was being especially bashful, and her eyes turned to the floor as President Clinton held her hand and spoke to her. Sara, however, looked the President straight in the eyes, and as she held his hand, she said, "Hello, Mr. President."