Has Writing Letters Become a Lost Art?
One magical moment would change my way of thinking forever.
Like a python slowly wrapping its thick body around my neck poised to overtake me, my mother’s stare locked me into a hypnotic state. Knowing I was in big trouble, she snarled, “Have you written your thank-you notes yet?”
As a young girl, perfect penmanship and flowery descriptions of gratitude were right up there with impeccable table manners. If it wasn’t done in a timely fashion, and to her satisfaction, my life would be hell for months to come.
Guiltily, I hung my seven-year-old head in shame and said with a tremor, “No.”
Gripping her candy apple red nails around my wrist, she led me to my room. As she pulled out a box of stationery, she icily declared, “You’re not to leave this room until all of them are done. It’s either that or I send all your gifts back.” Wanting the presents, I wrote under duress.
For years, I followed her Miss Manners instruction until one day I discovered a lovely little thing known as email. Why let your fingers get all cramped up when typing was so much easier, not to mention cheaper?
But last year, one magical moment would change my way of thinking forever.
Cleaning out the attic, I opened a golden box tucked away and found a stack of…
