I don’t like federal holidays. Don’t get me wrong — I want the day off. But I also want my mail.
Yes, I know what I just wrote. And I know that in the day of instantaneous mail via e-mail, that sounds strange. But ever since I was a little girl, the mail carrier delivered. It began with my copies of “Highlights” magazine and then “Ranger Rick.” I graduated to the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew mystery book club.
And, of course, there were the pen pals I had around the world. I wrote to a few in Africa for a summer or two. But Andrew, who lived in Kuala Lumpar, Malaysia, and I corresponded for more than 10 years. Ironically, we lost touch soon after we both got email. His letters opened a whole new world to me. And I had fun sharing my life and culture through newspaper I created for him and through letters.
In college, my mother and I began a correspondence that continues to this day. There is nothing I enjoy more than coming home to find a letter waiting from her. She shares the daily stories of what she and dad had for dinner, when they walked the dog and what score she got in Pinchocle. Mundane, perhaps, but it’s the stuff of life.
Many of my friends send short little notes. I guess we’re still a bit old-fashioned that way.
And now I write to my sponsored child in Brazil. It’s part of sponsorship through ChildFund International. I enjoy hearing how Fabia is growing and what she is doing. Our correspondence reminds me of my childhood pen pals.
So while I love the ease and speed of email, I truly enjoy the deliveries to my mailbox. For me, snail mail delivers.
One thought on “Snail Mail Delivers”
I sure to agree! I have warm memories of when our mailman in Fair Lawn, NJ, delivered the mail not only once, but twice a day. He trudged through the heat of summer, the snows of winter, up and down the streets of our community – carrying his leather mail sack over his shoulder, and never failing us. My Mom always offered a cold glass of chocolate milk or warm cup of coffee on those days of extreme temperature.
Those daily deliveries brought all sorts of surprises. Cards and notes from families in other parts of the country, offers from magazines – and, yes, even the bills that would sit on a table waiting for my dad to come home.
I miss those days.