The community center gym buzzed with noise—chairs scraping, phones snapping pictures, kids darting between rows.

Mason tugged his notebook under his arm. His teacher had tapped him to cover the mayor’s first big town event for the middle school paper. Not exactly his dream assignment, but at least it wasn’t another article on cafeteria pizza.

At the front, Mayor Lucas stepped up to the podium. He wasn’t much older than Mason’s older brother, but the crowd treated him like a rock star.

“I grew up a few blocks from here,” Lucas began, his voice steady. “I wasn’t the smartest kid in class, or the fastest on the court. But I kept showing up. And I kept trying. That’s really all I did differently.”

People clapped, some cheered. Mason jotted a few notes but mostly just watched. The mayor wasn’t reading from a script. He looked like he actually meant it.

When the applause died down, the event host held up a thin, crumpled envelope. “Before we wrap up, Mayor Lucas, I have something you might want to see.”

Lucas blinked. “What’s this?”

“Your old middle school teacher sent this over. Said you’d recognize it.”

The envelope was torn at the edges, the ink faded. Lucas chuckled as he pulled out a folded sheet. “Wow. I wrote this when I was twelve. We had an assignment—write a letter to your future self.”

The crowd leaned forward. Mason’s pencil hovered.

Lucas smoothed the paper and began to read. “‘Dear Future Me: If you’re reading this, congrats. You made it past middle school. I hope you’re not boring. I hope you don’t quit too easily. And I hope you remember to actually do something useful, not just talk about it.’”

The room laughed lightly. Lucas grinned. “‘P.S. If you ever get famous, don’t let it go to your head. People hate that.’”

He looked up, holding the letter between his fingers. “So yeah, apparently twelve-year-old me had very strong opinions.”

The laughter faded into silence. Lucas’ expression shifted, more thoughtful now. “But honestly, this is a pretty good reminder. If I had to sum up my job, it’s this: show up, try hard, don’t get boring, and don’t let it go to your head.”

The crowd clapped again, louder this time. Mason scribbled down the last line. It wasn’t the kind of moment he expected to cover—no fireworks, no ribbon-cutting, just a guy reminding himself, out loud, to stick to the basics.

Later, Mason would shape it into his article. But for now, he just sat back in his chair, grinning. Maybe writing for the school paper wasn’t so bad after all.

_{“Note to the Future” by Nina D. Smith. Published by Bright Bunny Books © 2025. Retelling of “Selfmade Men” from Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens by Margaret W. Eggleston, originally published in 1921.}

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“Note to the Future” is best suited for middle school students (grades 6–8) because it blends relatable characters, accessible language, and a theme about perseverance and self-reflection that resonates with their growing independence.

Here are three discussion questions you could use with this story:

1. Why do you think writing a letter to your future self can be powerful? How might it influence your choices today?
2. What qualities made Mayor Lucas relatable to the crowd—and to Mason?
3. How does Mason’s reaction at the end show that he’s learned something new about writing—and maybe about himself?

This content is provided under fair use for educational purposes only. Commercial use is strictly prohibited by the creator.