Has the Mail Arrived?
Dimitra Kondiles
In all the years that I have worked as an accountant the "good morning" was always followed by "has the mail arrived." As I have worked in various places, it would be the controller or the president of the company asking me, did the money come, or did we receive the contract, or did the bank statement come yet, or what about the letter of confirmation. Sometime when I would arrive at the office a bunch of envelopes with a rubber band around them would be waiting for me. I would open each envelope and sort out the mail. I would usually handle the checks, the new orders would go to the sales manager, some of the documents were for the controller, some for the president of the company. I do believe in computers and am computer smart but not computer wise. I do believe that whatever the envelope contains can never be replaced by the computer. I do not believe the fax machine, the copy machine or iPod can replace the hand to hand handling of mail. So much and so many depend on the computer. This is fine if a cross reference or batch total is done at the end of the work day. Mail is not cheap. The price of an ordinary piece of mail can be as much as two dollars and fifty cents. An e-mail will barely cost anything as long as it is in good working condition. E-mail is so inpersonal. One is more apt to get results by sending a written document. I do believe that big business has gotten too involved in the use of technology. Much of the small details are over looked, and so it is today sending an e-mail in place of taking the time to write a note.
I have many other reasons to look forward to my daily mail. It could be a little letter from one of my great grandchildren, who is just learning to write. It could be a letter from my grandson in Iraq. Some time ago I received a beautiful letter from my grandson Peter, he wrote to tell me how he remembers me getting dinner ready in the kitchen and how he enjoyed playing in the attic when he was just three years old. I hold this letter from Iraq very close to my heart for he took the time to write this wonderful remembrance. Then there was the mail during WWII. I do believe everyone knew their mailman and waited for him just as my family waited for that letter from the battlefield.
I do believe that there are those who think we could do with less mail. I wonder if they ever received a letter and saved it and held it like a very special picture close to their heart.
No mail can ever be replaced. One has only to come to my condo to see the elderly waiting for the mailman.
The Mail
Elvira K. Castillo
I recently read a letter in the Tribune section of "Voice of the People" written by Marlene Jeziorski of Oak Lawn, in which she encourages senior citizens to use their cursive writing and printing skills, put on their thinking caps, and start writing. She said the thought process would be good for our minds and it would also he good exercise for our fingers to pick up a pen and write. She said sbe mails cards, notes and letters frequently and looks forward to receiving mail. She is a big fan of the U.S. Postal Service and says the cost of mailing a letter is minimal. Well, I say "kudos" to Marlene. She is a woman after my own heart.
I, too, am a fan of the Post Office, and needless to say, of cursive writing, and I definitely look forward to receiving mail. My friend, Gloria, and I have been writing each other letters for years. Often our letters are 8 to 10 pages long. When I tell people we do this, they look at me strangely and ask, "What could you possibly write about every week?" Well, my answer is, "What isn't there to write about?" We share literally our lives in these letters, and I know we both enjoy hand writing in cursive style. What do we write about? How about our activities during the week, health issues, family issues, politics, books, movies, unemployment, our opinions on current issues of the day (such as discontinuing cursive writing in schools and the possibility of less or no postal service in the future), and, currently, we are sharing our opinions on all the "Dancing with the Stars" contestants and other aspects of the show, such as guest stars and the costumes and dresses worn. We look forward to each others letters and are both grateful to God for our friendship and the ability He has given us to be able to communicate in this manner at our mutual ages of 76. My handwriting is not too bad, but let me tell you my friend, Gloria, has beautiful penmanship. Also, I might add, that when I broke my right wrist last winter, it didn't stop me from writing. I found I could print pretty good with my left hand. Another gift!
Since Gloria and I are both getting on in age, she recently wrote the following to me in a letter and I quote:
"Things can happen to us so fast, one day we are fine, the next day the world turns upside down on us and life, as we know it, is gone. So just know if this ever happens to me, I want you to know how much your friendship has meant to me. You have enriched my life so much by caring and sharing, making me laugh, and especially the joy of reading your stories. You are a "sister in my heart" and you have left a true gift of yourself to me. Thank you, its something I will always treasure."
I could not have expressed any more or better how I feel about our letters, Gloria, and you certainly have enriched my life, too. I saved what you wrote and will treasure your words forever.
To end, soon it will be Christmas and I look forward to receiving beautiful greetings from all my friends and relatives, written by hand, and received by mail, and I pray this service will never end as the mailbox is a gift that brings joy to this "old fashioned" but "happy" senior citizen. And, thanks again, Marlene, for bringing the importance of the "pen" as a way of expressing oneself to our attention.
The Letter
J.P. Scianna
Charles Frederick held the unopened blue envelope in his hand. He turned it over and over, checking the address and the postmark. "Unbelievable." It was postmarked June 1943. "Why, that was fifty years ago." The Letter was addressed to Sgt. Charles Frederick, c/o APO, Palermo, Italy. He thought back to that time.
He closed his eyes as he remembered. Palermo, yes, the base camp just outside of Palermo. It was a hot humid day. He had just received his promotion to second Lieutenant. He could hear sounds of heavy artillery booming in the distance. There had not been any correspondence for a month. No word from Marie in all that time. His last letter to her was to end their relationship because he could not expect her to wait for him, especially since he had decided to make the army his career.
He retired with the rank of colonel, opened a real estate office and now, again, he was retired.
Strange that the letter had just now reached him. He knew it was from Marie. She always used blue stationary. He would watch for the blue envelopes while on duty. Marie was gone now. After forty five years of marriage and traveling with him every time he was transferred to a new assignment. The year before he retired, while in Africa she contracted a rare tropical disease which proved fatal.
And now this letter arrives. Sitting down, he opened the letter. It read. "Dearest Charles: You foolish man. What makes you think our love is not strong enough to survive the greatest distances or the ravages of war? I will be here for you regardless of what happens, I will be proud to be an army wife. A good soldier obeys commands. Now hear this, get those foolish ideas out of your mind and think of how it will be when we are together again. Take care of yourself for me. All my love, always. Marie."
He brushed a tear from his eyes, folded the letter back into its envelope and thought to himself. How typical of army mail. Late, but fifty years is a bit much.