I do most of my communicating via e-mail. I am quite the talker, and I type like I talk. The words just pour from my fingers. So I keep in touch with my friends mostly through e-mail. However, there are a small group of people in my life who don't have computers and so I keep in touch with them by the old fashioned US mail. This week I got three letters, all of them hand-written. One from an acquaintance in Michigan, an elderly lady who's quite an artist. She's got quite a fascinating resume. Guess what job she held for most of her life? Remember the flannel boards used in Sunday Schools everywhere to illustrate Bible stories? Phyllis painted flannel board figures. I get a hand written letter from her at the beginning of every month, telling me about her comings and goings in small town Michigan, and how her garden grows, reminisces about her childhood in upstate New York. I also got a little card from Esperanza, the sister I sponsor through Women-to-Women. She 'greets me so much!' as she puts it. I love that. I also got a letter from Trevor, three pages, handwritten in his careful script. It was good to hear from him. I'd been worried about him. Big life changes are always, well...life changing. As I sat and read their letters, it was hard not to think that the three of these people set aside part of their day and hand wrote a letter. Although I'm noted for my letter writing abilities (everyone says, "Gees, you write just like you talk') and I can send some pretty lengthy letters, they are almost always pounded out on the computer and printed off, with 'Love, Debby' scrawled at the bottom. There is something wonderful about receiving a handwritten letter. The writer stopped what they were doing and sat down to compose a letter. I picture them sitting down, staring off, chewing on their pen, thinking over a blank sheet of paper, crafting their words for my pleasure. What a rare gift!
This week, my printer is on the glitch. I got out a tablet and sat down to answer the letters of my friends. As the words flowed from my pen, I discovered, for myself, the joys of...my computer. Egads. Will fix printer today, or die in the trying. I am not an artist.