I recently had a birthday. As usual, I received a handmade card from Beth Catlin, who has been sending me such birthday greetings for more than three decades, even though we'd never met until 2009.
That was the year I decided it was time to finally meet Beth in person, so I visited her workplace, the C. Wilson Pollock Industrial Training Center.
"Hi, Beth," I said, shaking her hand hello. "I'm Ronnie. It's wonderful to finally meet you. Thank you for all the cards."
She looked at me with brief intensity, then her eyes darted away as she said: "Ronnie. July 3." Which is my birthday.
I mentioned the names of several of my many siblings, to whom she also sent annual greetings, and she recited their birthdays, too.
"That's right," I said. "You've got them all correct." She smiled, pleased, and said, "Yeah."
Beth, now 59, is an autistic savant. Intellectually and developmentally disabled, she lives on a sweet little block with her widowed mother, Barb, who is now 88. Her dad, Don, passed away suddenly seven months after my visit.
But he was alive and vivacious the day we met, eager to talk about the extraordinary mission Beth began some time in 1972: She sends handmade birthday greetings to every person she has ever met — and to their friends and relatives, whether she has met them or not. Beth's sister went to school with my sister; Beth got my name and date of birth from her.