I wish my trove of memorabilia included a picture of our old mailbox, because I remember how fast my bare feet could take me there in the summertime.
Especially on Fridays when My Weekly Reader arrived.
I also loved to get cards, postcards, and letters. I would pore over the pictures, notice the handwriting, and imagine myself in faraway places. I would dream. I tried being a Words of Cheer pen pal but got discouraged when I got no response.
I’m still a dreamer. And a note writer.
Friends and family hear from me most, but sometimes I write to authors I admire. Or to politicians.
The politicians always “write” back. But when an author writes, in her own hand, a precious note of encouragement. . . .
That’s a day for jubilation!
On that day, I am six years old again.
My toes covered in dust by the side of the road, I reach into the box and pull out an envelope I don’t recognize.
Until I see the name.
What kind of mailbox do you have? Did you have in your youth? Have any memory treasures to share?