And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden
My niece and I are writing letters, real letters, to each other. She will be 13 next week and in our world of immediate communication, has never experienced the delicious anticipation of a letter full of news and tidbits, handwritten on beautiful stationary, being carried just for her. We began while I was away this winter, as a way to touch something the other had held in their hands.
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden
My niece and I are writing letters, real letters, to each other. She will be 13 next week and in our world of immediate communication, has never experienced the delicious anticipation of a letter full of news and tidbits, handwritten on beautiful stationary, being carried just for her. We began while I was away this winter, as a way to touch something the other had held in their hands.
She was a hoot, sending me text photos of the letters she had written so I could see when one was on the way -- a funny mix of past and present. She wants to continue now that I'm home which excites me - it's a wonderful thing for us to share! I reminded her we've been writing to each other since she was writing to Esmerelda, the flower fairy that lives in my garden...
and so it continues. I'll keep you updated!
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