But the article in the Herald wasn’t the only reason she felt famous. That morning, she’d walked downtown to buy some toiletries. She liked Edenton’s compact size and how easy it was to get around. The day was quite sunny and warm for December and the Christmas decorations strung across Broad Street seemed almost out of place, or at least out of season. She was in Michener’s Drug Store when she spotted the new Life magazine on the magazine rack, and she gasped. She’d nearly forgotten that all the winning mural sketches for the 48-States Competition were to be published in Life. She picked up a copy, her hands trembling as she carried it to the front of the store, and she fumbled in her purse for coins. Trying to contain her excitement, she carried the magazine to a bench on Broad Street, where she paged through it, finally finding the spread of all the winning sketches. The pictures were very small—almost postage-stamp-sized, and they were in black-and-white, but she could imagine the colors and vibrancy of them all. There was her poor old useless sketch for Bordentown—Clara Barton and her students at the brick schoolhouse. She touched it fondly with her fingertip, missing it a little. The caption stated Anna Dale will be creating a new sketch for the Edenton, North Carolina, post office. There were a few other sketches by artists who also received new assignments, and she was relieved to feel less alone. She wasn’t the only artist scrambling to come up with new subject matter. She noticed that a couple of other artists had divided their murals into three or more parts, so she would not be alone in doing that, either.

Seeing her sketch in the magazine gave her the confidence to call the art supply store in Norfolk and order the paper she would need for the cartoon. Her new sketch was coming along beautifully. She’d barely slept for the work—which was more like pleasure to her—and she was almost ready to begin adding color.

She was reading in the living room shortly after making the call when Miss Myrtle walked into the room. The older woman sat down in the armchair she seemed to fancy and studied Anna’s face.

“You have bags under your eyes for one so young,” she said.

Anna only laughed. The insult didn’t bother her a whit. She was too excited to have her mood brought down by Miss Myrtle or anyone else today.

“It’s just that I love what I’m doing, Miss Myrtle,” she said. “I’m very happy.”

“Yes, but I’m a little concerned about you.” Miss Myrtle frowned. “Freda wrote me a note saying you didn’t eat breakfast or lunch today. You’re already thin as a rail. Promise me you’ll have a snack, all right, dear?”