Mother Meadows: So. . . what does my little big girl plan on doing today?
Miss Meadows: I am substitute-teaching in a low-income, racially mixed bottom-scoring, first-grade classroom.
Mother Meadows: Oh, you poor darling. You could have run the charm school in a soon-to-be bankrupt department store or. . .been president.
Miss Meadows: But that wasn’t my destiny, Mother.
Mother Meadows: Well, I hardly think your destiny is being a temporary teacher.
Miss Meadows: Well, no one knows their destiny except. . .God. . .or. . .a best-selling author.
Mother Meadows: Well, I just don’t understand why you don’t something more. . . permanent.
Miss Meadows: Permanence is temporary, Mother dear.
Mother Meadows: Well, I suppose there’s some truth in that, Mary.
Miss Meadows: And truth is relative.