A poem remembering the pleasure of receiving old-fashioned, handwritten letters. |
Today, in this world of e-mail, instant messaging, the cell phone, and the fax, quickness must prevail. Such speed is all youngsters have known. Getting a quick response is fine, but somehow I miss those letters we used to send. They were a sign of my youth when folks were writers. Those letters were more personal, each with unique handwriting style, stationery choice optional – fancy or white -- either worthwhile. Letters from loved ones were treasures… lovingly handwritten, bestowed with lipsticked-kiss seal … true pleasures worth keeping, bundled, ribbon-bowed. Their journey might take many days, as they braved weather and mishaps. Each day passed in waiting would raise expectations higher perhaps. The mail’s delivery was much anticipated every day, hope would flourish as we would touch each letter looking, then … hooray! Feeling such pure satisfaction due to an old-fashioned letter somehow defies explanation. Today’s e-mail just isn’t better. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |