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Informationen zum Autor Catherine Ryan Hyde is the author of twenty-five books, which include Where We Belong , When You Were Older , Walk Me Home , When I Found You , Don't Let Me Go , The Language of Hoofbeats , and Take Me With You , among others. More than fifty of her short stories have been published in various literary magazines. Following the success of Pay It Forward , Catherine founded the Pay It Forward Foundation and served as president until 2009. She lives in California with her dog, Ella, and their cat, Jordan. To learn more about the foundation and other forthcoming books, visit CatherineRyanHyde.com. Klappentext In a version of the 1999 book rewritten for a middle-grade audience, "Trevor McKinney, a twelve-year-old boy in a small California town, accepts his teacher's challenge to earn extra credit by coming up with a plan to change the world. His idea is simple: do a good deed for three people and instead of asking them to return the favor, ask them to 'pay it forward' to three others who need help"--Pay It Forward CHAPTER ONE Reuben January 1992 The woman smiled so politely that he felt offended. “Let me tell Principal Morgan that you’re here, Mr. St. Clair. She’ll want to talk with you.” She walked two steps, turned back. “She likes to talk to everyone, I mean. Any new teacher.” “Of course.” He should have been used to this by now. More than three minutes later she emerged from the principal’s office, smiling too widely. Too openly. People always display far too much acceptance, he’d noticed, when they are having trouble mustering any for real. “Go right on in, Mr. St. Clair. She’ll see you.” “Thank you.” The principal appeared to be about ten years older than Reuben, with a great deal of dark hair, worn up, a Caucasian, and attractive. “We are so pleased to meet you face-to-face, Mr. St. Clair.” Then she flushed, as if the mention of the word “face” had been an unforgivable error. “Please call me Reuben.” “Reuben, yes. And I’m Anne.” She met him with a steady, head-on gaze and at no time appeared startled. So she had been verbally prepared by her assistant. And somehow the only thing worse than an unprepared reaction was the obviously rehearsed absence of one. He hated these moments so. She motioned toward a chair, and he sat. “I’m not quite what you were expecting, am I, Anne?” “In what respect?” “Please don’t do this. You must appreciate how many times I’ve replayed this same scene. I can’t bear to talk around an obvious issue.” She tried to establish eye contact, as one normally would when addressing a coworker in conversation, but she could not make it stick. “You know this has nothing to do with your being African American,” she said. “Oh, yes,” he said. “I do know that. I know exactly what it’s about.” “If you think your position is in any jeopardy, Reuben, you’re worrying for nothing.” “Do you really have this little talk with everyone?” “Of course I do.” “Before they even address their first class?” Pause. “Not necessarily. I just thought we might discuss the subject of . . . initial adjustment.” “You worry that my appearance will alarm the students.” “What has your experience been with that in the past?” “The students are always easy, Anne. This is the difficult moment. Always.” “I understand.” “With all respect, I’m not sure you do,” he said. Out loud. * * * At his former school, in Cincinnati, Reuben had a friend named Louis Tartaglia. Lou had a special way of addressing an unfamiliar class. He would enter,...
