I’ve seen a lot of pictures lately on Facebook of “old fashioned” things like dial telephones, roller skate keys, disposable camera flashbulbs. Can you guess what this is?! Do you remember?! Today, my mailman, who delivers my mail made out of paper, to my mailbox made out of metal, brought me three lovely things. One day, I imagine, this could be a thing of the past, too. Like the milkmen. Or the knife sharpening truck dinging its way through my neighborhood. But until that time comes, I can’t help but get excited when my mailbox is full, and it appears like it’s not all bills and supermarket fliers. Today was that day.
The first lovely thing was in a padded envelope. As I lifted it out of the mailbox I felt what was inside shift in a satisfying way. This was an expected package. Something I ordered. I put it aside for later.
The second lovely thing came in a smallish, bright yellow envelope, the address sloping down to the right, the stamp that I had packed in my son’s camp duffel bag stuck on slightly askew. This was an expected letter. I put that one aside for later too.
The third lovely thing came in a manilla envelope, hand addressed to me. As I slid the magazine out, a card fluttered to the ground. I picked it up and read the note my client had penned, acknowledging me for my support. I smiled. But then the p.s. explained that the drawing of a house on the front of the card was an artist’s rendition of the actual house that inspired my client’s manuscript, which I currently have out on submission. Tears threatened.
I re-read the short story that was published in the magazine, third place winner of their fiction contest. I read the (very short) note from my son, about how great camp is even though the food was better last year. And then I dug into the bag of black jelly beans that I’d ordered, an attempt to satisfy my licorice craving in my gluten free world.
Some days are saved by what we get in the mail. Some days are made by it. When was the last time your day was changed by the mailman?