Writing letters is one of my love languages. I know it’s not technically one of the five love languages, but it is mine. I check the mail box impatiently — waiting, waiting, waiting. I anticipate carefully thought out words stuffed in carefully addressed envelopes. Sometimes there are surprises that have me smiling for the whole day.
I go over the words carefully — over and over — taking in the precious thoughts of a dear friend. It says to me, “I was thinking about you days (or weeks) ago and thought you needed a reminder that I love you.”
One of the greatest things about having friends all over the world is that getting mail happens more often. The best letters have envelopes that tell stories.
They tell stories of places they’ve been and I dream of the adventure they had in getting all the way to my mail box. What a grand adventure! I await the next stories that find themselves in my mail box. I await their colorful postage and stamps and the friendly words inside. Always waiting, waiting, waiting, and in the meantime, sending, sending sending. You won’t be waiting long.
(Prompted by Lisa-Jo over at The Gypsy Mama.)