Today I went to my post office box to collect the usual statements, bills and whatever books I’ve bought this week. Books are my guilty pleasure and no matter how much I tell myself I’m not going to buy any for a while, I can’t resist. Anyway I digress.
Amongst the usual assortment of expected items was a letter.
A hand written letter.
From a friend.
Oh the joy and delight at seeing that beautiful hand written envelope addressed to me from a dear friend. Kay, knowing that I was in your thoughts and that you took the time to write to me, just made my day. My first instinct in our social media world that I’m so entrenched in, was to take a photo and put it on Facebook. However I resisted the urge.
It was so nice to sit down when I got home with a cup of tea and read the lovely letter. I remember a few months ago taking a Facebook holiday as I was feeling overwhelmed by the constant flow of information, memes and offers to make six figure incomes. I updated my status to let friends know, as they are used to chatting with me via messenger, that I would be offline for a while as I didn’t want them thinking I was ignoring them, or perhaps that something untoward had happened. I suggested a phone call, a text or an old fashioned letter as a way to stay in touch during my period offline. I exchanged addresses with Kay at that time, with the very best of intentions, but I didn’t get around to it.
Well today, she brought me so much joy by that simple but so very meaningful act of putting pen to paper. When I was a teenager I used to write letters all the time. I had pen pals in many countries and it was such a thrill to get letters from them. Ah those were the days. (imagine reminiscent sigh and pause here). When I moved to South Australia in 1981, my best friend Lissa and I used to write really regularly to each other, and a few friends and I shared the very occasional letter. Lissa and I were very consistent though. This was back in the day that an interstate phone call was reserved for incredibly special occasions or emergencies, as they were just too expensive. Letters were it. I was only thinking the other night about my old metal biscuit tin that is in my keepsake box in the shed, it is brimming over with letters that I haven’t looked at in years. I think it might be time to take them out.
In this time of instant feedback being given and expected through all forms of communication we have become used to, the beautiful art of letter writing has been sadly put to rest by so many of us. I’d like to start a revolution. A letter writing revolution.
Can I suggest you take a few minutes to make someone’s day today. Drop them a note. Let them know you are thinking of them, the old fashioned way.