A love letter to letter-writing, formerly entitled "Why don't we do this anymore?"

To the comrades, companions, and colleagues at the One Love,

Lately I have been pondering the disappearance of an old custom, one which used to bring so much joy to the masses and which used to give our mailboxes a magical quality. When I say mailboxes, I mean actual mailboxes. The purpose of this letter is to discuss the little empty piece of my heart that was once sending and receiving letters.

Who would dispute the merit of a hand-written note? The time put into each letter, each word, each sentence to create an overall heart-felt whole. Perhaps the letter is just a friendly hello. Perhaps the letter is a declaration of undying devotion and adoration. Whatever the case, there are few things more thoughtful in this world than simple hand-written letters.

Also, who would dispute the little thrill of excitement that comes from finding, amidst the bills and catalogues and useless informational flotsam and jetsam that never fail to find their way into our mailboxes, an envelope with our names written out on the front. Even the smell of an envelope has a certain excitement to it. The crisp, fresh scent of the paper, the salty-sweet smell of the adhesive, and some individualized aroma of the very person from whom you are receiving the letter, a faint impression of his or her home and his/her life.

The little triangular seal teases you, daring you and enticing you. Open me. You may get a letter opener and carefully open along the lines of the seal. You may rip into the fold like a maniac. Whatever your style, you simply can't resist seeing what's inside that letter, written just for you. You pull the letter from the depths of the envelope, and you hold your breath just slightly, the mystery unfolding with the pages of the letter.

I think there is nothing so clever, nothing so caring, nothing so thoughtful, nothing so warm, nothing so friendly, nothing so tender, nothing so deliciously romantic than receiving a hand-written letter. These are sorely missing from my life at present, and I can't help lamenting their absence.

While I perfectly understand the convenience of instant messaging and email, I think our society could use a little bit of patience -- it is a virtue, to be sure. Maybe if we were a little less addicted to instant gratification, some of our personality problems would subside. There's something so beautiful about having to wait for a letter. Will it be a few days? A week? A month? Longer? It's maddening, at times, but in the end it's worth the wait. Many things in life are worth the wait, but "waiting" is a word society seems to be attempting to erase from our vocabulary. It's sad.

And now, I will climb off of my soapbox, and bid you all a fond adieu. Until next we meet, I remain sincerely yours.

Sarah