HAMILTON TWP., Ohio — Camilla Pettersson begins reading the first letter. The one that started everything. But when she tells me the date, her daughter quickly corrects her.
In Sweden, they write the day before the month.
This particular letter arrived in 1983, when international postage cost around 40 cents and Pettersson didn’t know much English. The 12-year-old had a different last name and lived about an hour outside of Stockholm. She knew nothing about Ohio — and definitely nothing about the small village of Blanchester, where the letter came from.
It began like this:
Dear Camilla, I was glad I got a letter from you. I would like to tell you a little about myself.
In the letter, a 12-year-old from halfway around the world wrote about her brother, saying she plays piano and flute. She said she did ballet until she hurt her leg. Until was spelled wrong.
The letter ended like this:
I hope we will write for a long time.
Pettersson laughs after reading it. Because they did.
A handwritten friendship: After 43 years, Ohio and Swedish pen pals say they're family
More than 4,300 miles away in Hamilton Township, Kendra Larrick is sitting with her daughter. Her letters to Sweden started as a school project, but turned into something much more.
Now 55, Pettersson is also sitting with her daughter. There's a stack of letters tied with ribbon on a table nearby. Pettersson picks up another one.
Soon, she’s reading about Larrick's breakup with a boyfriend.
“Maybe I should skip that,” Pettersson said.
They laugh. Because they grew up together — even if they lived in different countries. At the end of another letter, Pettersson holds up the sentence that comes after Larrick's signature.
This is a bear.
Those words are followed by a picture.
“I knew you might need help,” Larrick said.
At her dining room table, Larrick has two photo albums. One is from a trip to Sweden. Another is from a trip Pettersson made to Blanchester.
Because the two kept writing. And as soon as they could, they began visiting each other.
"I feel like I have family in Sweden," Larrick said.
Now, even their daughters are friends, and they take trips together every other year. On a video call, the two families reminisce about those trips and plot their next adventure.
"I love her. I really do, Kendra," Petterson said. "You're one of my best humans."
The friends don't write letters anymore. They don't have to. But Larrick writes one for this story.
And she ends it like this:
Love, Kendra
