The Art of the Letter

There is just something about a letter.  I'm old enough that I wrote them quite a lot.  From camp to my parents, to pen pals, to friends back home, to boyfriends and on and on.  I know emails are faster, and text is, well, the speed of some sort of waves that bounce around from tower to tower, but here was something so special about getting a little piece of mail in the post box, all for me. 

I love the feel of the paper, the shape of the words written by hand, rather than typed on a keyboard.  Emails have a subject and come to my screen and I can save them forever if I want, but eventually they get lost in a list of other emails, further and further back in my history.  Unless it was something special that I'll remember and go searching for, it is, for all intents and purposes, lost. 

Letters, however, stay put.  I have a box full of them and I can sort through them and re-read them.  Love letters are the best kind.  I only have a few from my honey because by the time we started dating, well...cell phones and email had taken over the world, but they are sweeter than anything else I own.  I have a few precious ones from my grampa, and some dear little (literally - she likes tiny pieces of paper) notes from my mama.  It's like a little piece of that person, forever captured on paper.  Send one to your sweetie, or your baby, or your mama and papa.  Send one to me!  It's the best 44¢ you can ever spend.