Remember the days of writing letters? Real letters, I mean. Not text messages or emails. Real letters on pretty stationery, sent through the mail with a stamp. Remember the anticipation of checking your mailbox? And the excitement of discovering a letter there? It's a shame that tradition has been all but lost. Thankfully, it isn't lost on my daughter and her friend Grace.
Alex gets more real mail every week than I get junk mail. Even in the days when Grace and Alex saw each other twice a week at church, they exchanged letters at least a couple of times during any given week.
A few days after Michael's accident, I was surprised to flip through the mail and find a letter addressed to Michael. It looked like Grace's familiar writing on the envelope. As I passed it to Michael, I said, "This must be a letter from Jack, and he had his sister address it." But, no. It was a sweet, sweet letter from Grace. It read as follows:
Dear Michle, (if that's how you spell your name) I heard that you got your finger stuck in your bicicle chain. OUCH! I'm really sorry that that happen'd! Though your crazy, I care alot about you and Im praying for you and so is the whole familey! And so are Fluff-ball, Puff-ball and Poof. I wish I could do somthing to help. Write me back and you can tell me what happen'd!
Your loving friend,
Michael responded with this letter:
What happed was I was going up our driveway. Then I pushed on the brakes and I reach down and pulled on the chain to make sure it was tight. Then my brain said to keep going and it sucked my finger into the chain. Oh yeah and my name is Michael and thank you for the letter. your friend, Michael