As soon as I saw the return address and looping handwriting, I knew what it was.

It was a lovely, personal note, written to me by Elizabeth Solter’s family as a thank you for my writing of her obituary. It made my eyes well up, that in their time of loss they made the effort to show appreciation in a touching, heartfelt way.

We here at the Chronicle don’t get many thank-you notes. Interestingly enough, the ones we do get are usually handwritten, as if the simple act of reaching out to express appreciation demands the personal attention and thought that goes into putting pen to paper instead of fingers to keyboard. In this day and age, a handwritten note is the exception, and makes a real impact.

I didn’t know Elizabeth well. Back in my grooming days, I’d taken care of a first year green horse she showed for the trainer I worked for, and she was so patient and appreciative of the horse that I deeply admired her. And then more recently, I interviewed her a few times and felt like I instantly had a connection with her.

From talking to people about her, I knew it wasn’t just me. Elizabeth had an accessibility, a simple honesty to her that made you feel like her friend right away. News of her premature death hit me hard—partly because I am of a similar age and also a mother. I can’t explain why, but I felt a certain responsibility to write her obituary for the magazine—maybe it was my way of paying my respects.

Getting her family’s thank-you note in the mail somehow came at just the right time to restore my faith in what I do and in the people out there reading. I’d just been through a few rounds of dissatisfied reader complaints, and was feeling pretty down about things. I feel a great responsibility to those I write about, and when I feel like I’ve failed them, it’s tough and I am disappointed in myself.

The majority of feedback that we get is negative—irate phone calls and emails about how we wrote the wrong thing, we got a fact wrong, or we didn’t write about someone’s daughter or horse. There are individuals who we write about over and over again for years who never once drop a note and say, “Hey, thanks for the flattering article. It was nice to read,” but will vociferously protest anything they don’t like. We research every fact we write in U.S. Equestrian Federation records, and I record every interview I do. But you can’t make everyone happy all the time, hard as you may try.

I know, I know, when people read something good, or that they like, they just nod, while when they read something they disagree with, they take action. It’s that theory that keeps me going sometimes when the accusations of wrongdoing seem to outweigh the voices of appreciation. And praise for doing a good job is for sure the exception to the rule in any career—doing a good job is expected and par for the course.

That’s what makes getting notes like the one I got the other day just so inspiring. The fact that something I wrote was that important to someone who read it was quite meaningful. Saying “thank you” is such a simple gesture, and it has such powerful reverberations. And it makes me want to pass it on and make sure someone else out there knows how important what they do is to me.

Every now and then we feature a blog from a member of the Chronicle staff. We’re just like you—juggling riding and competing with work and family. Associate Editor Molly Sorge has evented herself and groomed at Rolex Kentucky and Burghley CCI****s as well as spending a few years grooming on the A-rated hunter/jumper circuit before settling in at the Chronicle.