There is something about going to your mailbox and finding a hand-written note, card, or letter. Hopefully, we all have received one at some point in our life. Hand-written notes are a lost art. Beauty, heart-felt emotion, and meaning are the make-up of these personal expressions of emotion. In this form of communication, we are able to feel and embrace raw intimate emotion. They are void of impersonal and quick thoughts. Personal notes are simply…personal. Letters and writing notes were the first and only ways to communicate.
Even with the invention of the phone, people still wrote letters because they could not afford phones. We live in a society that throws caution to the wind when it comes to sharing our feelings and emotion. The mark of true character is a person who does not mind taking time to say thank-you or sharing an intimate thought. It is a fast paced world with no time to spare. Texting, emailing, and talking on the phone have taken control of our ability to communicate with emotion and genuine thought. It is all about quickness to speak and quickness in the response.
I have loved to receive letters and notes ever since my mission. I remember my first birthday in the mission field. My mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I told her all I wanted was a handwritten letter from my dad. I missed him. I felt incomplete because I had not received a letter from him. Each day I opened the mail box with great anticipation and hope. The day before my birthday I literally felt the heavens part when my companion opened the mail box and there was one envelope in the box. I didn’t notice that it had my name on it.
The Essay on The Scarlet Letter cliff notes 2758
Seven years ago, my brother made a terrible mistake. He slept with a woman named Hester Prynne, and she became pregnant with a child. I am talking about the great Reverend Dimmesdale. The problem is that he has not taken responsibility for his actions for seven years. Hester Prynne was already married and her husband was away in England taking care of some business. By sleeping with her, he helped ...
I immediately looked at the return address and his name was there. It was from my dad. I held tight to that note and hugged it. He took time for me and I will never forget what I felt in that moment. I will always cherish that letter. It is amazing how a processed tree brought so much joy to me. This letter continues to be one of my most treasured items. We need to turn our computers and power our phone down. It is time to pull out the dusty pack of note cards that are tucked away in a desk drawer. It is time to sharpen our pencils. Hand-written notes need to make a comeback!
