The Gift of a Letter

Ever since the boys and I have been here, Kent has written us letters. Real live, stamped, addressed, hold-in-your-hand letters. I've come to look forward to walking Sadie up to the gate at night and taking that extra jaunt down the road to the mailbox to see if there's a letter. Usually there is.

I didn't expect any letters this week. Kent has been at a Windsor chair making class all week at Homestead Heritage (near Waco) and he is busy from morning to sometimes way after dinner with his chair project. It's a neat class. They basically start with a log and, using only hand tools, he should have a Windsor chair by the end of the week. It's a Monday to Saturday class and they are going fast to complete their chairs in the 6 days.

Kent is a sweet, thoughtful kind of man. Still, I was surprised to go to the mailbox on Tuesday and find a letter waiting for us. Even better, he has been sending us news clippings this week from the papers he reads at breakfast. He sent clippings to Harrison about the volcano in Iceland. He sent clippings to Hadley about a music group he likes. Today we got two letters at once. In one was a clipping about a medieval castle that is being built in my birth state of Arkansas (one of only 2 in the world) and another about a sailing ship, the Plastiki, (think Kon Tiki) built from recycled plastic.

I love this man.

Letters are a gift. Yes, email is good and phone calls are great and we still do all of that. But I can't SAVE a phone call, and emails...well, think about it. Emails are a convenience but they are still emails. Letters are personal. They are handwritten. And even when they aren't, they are still signed with a pen and an embellishment of endearment.

It makes me think. How many letters have I written this year? More importantly, it makes me ponder...how many letters might I write in the coming months? Who might I gift with this simple pleasure of a letter? And it makes me grateful for a man who knows the pleasures that the gift of a letter can bring.