We've Got Mail

It's so nice to get mail again. I mean real mail--packages, letters from family. Of course, there is also the bane of bills and junk mail. I have to admit, though, that even getting those brightly colored ads in the mail is a little fun, particularly right now with move-in mail from furniture companies with alluring names such as West Elm, Crate & Barrel, and Pottery Barn. "Oooh, look at that gorgeous lamp!" I say as I glance through a brochure filled with glamorous photos of rooms no one ever lived in. "Only $269!" And into the trash it goes. Or should go. Unless, of course, I stash it somewhere because I want to remember something for the future. In that case the pile grows. I have always been prone to pile, much to Kraig's chagrin.

But piles and junk mail aside, the easy access to a mailbox and reliable service is wonderful. In Guadalajara it was basically a given that if you needed to get mail to the States, or needed to get something from there, it was best to wait till someone was traveling to or from. Part of the Sunday morning liturgy at our church was the final wrap-up question, "Is anyone going to the States this week who can take mail?" Thankfully travel back and forth was common. We brought packages back for our friends a number of times and vice versa. The couple packages friends tried to mail to us from the States halted at the border (though thankfully they returned to the sender).

I can't complain that we're back in the land where easy access to mail is a given. It's a cinch to send a letter, or return mail when your post office in Michigan decided to involve your in-law's mail with your forwards (okay, that was partly my fault; I assumed when I input our address change as "family" and listed our five names they would note that Larry and Sharon weren't among them). I know if I order something I can 1) order it, and 2) expect its arrival in decent tie. Or we can receive delightful packages like the one's Kraig's sister just sent us. And now we can send thankyous back...and she should get them! Nope. I certainly won't complain.

Tricky Communication

I remember music class in fourth grade
   When we listened to Fiddler on the Roof
   And I was so excited because I'd seen it live
   When we lived in the Philippines.
I tried to describe it to my teacher,
   To tell how it had been acted out,
   And I was confused when he said,
   "They must not have been very good."
I thought then that I hadn't explained well,
   But I've wondered since if
   He hadn't understood because
   He couldn't see that a third-world country
   Could produce something professional.
I don't know. I merely guess.
   Yet I think of the words of a mentor
   Who advised me in later years,
   "You have good ideas, but
   Always be aware of your tone."
In other words,
   Be careful how you say something
   As much as what you say,
   Because words and tone are dangerous tools
   When used carelessly.

Photo by Carolyn C. Givens