THE OTHER DAY I got a letter in the mail. A real, honest to goodness, full of handwritten words letter. It was from one of my guitar students, and I almost shed a tear because it was beautiful and heartfelt.
I can't remember the last time I got a personal letter. Sure, we got the Christmas form letters from family, and they are fine, but it's not the same.
I used to write a lot of letters. I was upstairs the other night puttering around and I found two big bags full of letters more than 30 years old. Many were from my mom and other family. Some night I'm going to go back up there and go on a time warp.
We fall prey to the modern way of communicating. I'm guilty of dashing off an email or Facebook message. The other day I actually asked for my daughter's address in Toronto and it occurred to me I have yet to write her a letter or send her something in the mail. I'm waiting for her to get home for Christmas, so I figured I'd wait.
For what?
Today I'll probably type the letter, because my handwriting is so awful and the recipient wouldn't be able to read it. And it's faster to type it on the computer, and print it, and sign it, and send it off. Do they still use those little sticky things on the envelopes? Wait a second .... stamps. Stamps! That's what we used to use.
A hand-written letter is a piece of you sent to somebody else. We've lost that in the modern world, and we are worse off for it.
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