I don’t usually get anything too exciting in the mail besides flyers and the occasional bill. But earlier this week, I found what felt like finding an Easter egg.
Mixed in with the junk mail was an envelope with the unmistakable handwriting of one of my best friends—a friend I’ve known since I was 17 years old.
The funny thing is, we both have unmistakable handwriting. You could probably recognize either one of ours from outer space.
Before texts, emails, and social media, we wrote letters.
She went off to college a year before I did, and we’d write back and forth about everything. We made each other laugh with our stories, observations, and probably more than a little drama. We’ve always shared a creative streak, and I still have at least some of those letters tucked away in one of my memory boxes.
Opening her letter today brought all of that rushing back. She told me she’d recently read The Correspondent, and it inspired her to start writing letters again.
(I’m definitely adding that one to my books-to-read list.)
Maybe it’s time I started sending a little happy mail of my own. As I’m writing this, I’m remembering a conversation I had with my Grandma Shirley.
She wasn’t able to drive to the post office anymore, so I’d stop by almost every day to pick up the stack of cards and letters she wanted mailed. It was her way of staying in touch with family and friends, even though she couldn’t get out anymore.
She loved sending cards. Not just for birthdays or holidays, either. She’d tuck little notes inside and send them just because she was thinking about someone.
One day, it happened to be my birthday week, and she tried to sneak my birthday card into the stack of mail she wanted me to take to the post office.
I spotted it right away.
“Grandma,” I said. “Save yourself a stamp. You can just give it to me.”
She looked at me, smiled, and said, “No. You mail that. Everybody deserves to get happy mail.”
So I did. I mailed my own birthday card to myself from Grandma. At the time, I thought it was funny.
Now I think it was one of the sweetest gifts she ever gave me. She wasn’t paying for a stamp. She was creating a feeling.
Every time I open my mailbox and find something unexpected from someone who cares about me, I think she was right.
Everybody deserves a little happy mail.
When we lived in Texas, Grandma Ella and I wrote letters back and forth. She’d tell me all the news from home—how the weather had been, when she was going to plant the garden, how the tomatoes were doing, what her rabbits had been up to, and, of course, what the neighbors across the street were doing.
She’d tell me how she’d helped my dad bait his fishing lines and how big the fish were that he’d caught. Looking back, I realize those letters were never really about the weather, the garden, the rabbits, or the fish.
They were about staying connected. About sharing everyday life even though I was 1200 miles from home.
About saying, “I was thinking about you.”
I still have many of those letters, along with birthday cards and Christmas cards from both of my grandmas tucked safely away in one of my memory boxes.
Every once in a while, I’ll pull them out and read through them again. Their handwriting, the little notes they wrote, and even the way they signed their names somehow bring them back for a little while.
That’s the beautiful thing about handwritten words. Long after the envelope is opened, they become something you can hold onto.
Maybe that’s why I still keep handwritten notes close by.
The little kitty cat notecard in the photo that goes with this story was written by my daughter during one of the hardest seasons of my life. She wanted me to know that she noticed the way I cared for people, how I always showed up for my family, and that those things mattered more than I realized. At a time when I felt exhausted and wondered if I was doing enough, her words reminded me that maybe I already was.
It still sits on my desk today. Whenever life feels especially heavy, I read it again.
Sometimes handwritten words don’t just brighten your day. Sometimes they help carry you through one.
My friend’s letter sent me down memory lane. It reminded me that before our words lived on screens, they lived on paper. We wrote letters, tucked notes inside birthday cards, left messages for the people we loved, and, if you grew up when I did, passed more than a few folded-up notes across a classroom.
Back then, if you couldn’t talk to your friends, you folded up a piece of notebook paper into a tiny little square and sent it across the classroom one desk at a time. Sometimes it was a note from your best friend. Sometimes it was a note from your boyfriend.
And if the teacher caught it…
Well, there was always a chance they’d read it out loud to the whole class. Talk about embarrassing. But that was the risk we took.
Somewhere along the way, we traded handwritten words for typed ones. But I don’t think they’re quite the same.
There’s something different about holding a handwritten letter. Someone sat down, picked out the paper, picked up a pen, found a stamp, and gave you something that’s becoming increasingly rare—their time.
Maybe that’s why handwritten letters feel so special. You don’t get an instant notification. You don’t watch three little dots while someone types. You drop a letter in the mailbox, and then you wait. One day, completely unexpectedly, there’s an envelope waiting for you.
It’s a wonderful surprise.
I know handwritten letters have become a bit of a lost art. Many kids today have never written one or received one.
Maybe that’s why this week’s letter meant so much. It reminded me that some things are still worth slowing down for.
And I think the world could use a little more happy mail
Today I’m Grateful For…
Friends who have stayed in my life through every season, grandmas who believed everybody deserved happy mail, my daughter whose words reminded me what I needed to hear, and handwritten notes that somehow carry a little piece of the person who wrote them.
Question for You
When was the last time you received a handwritten letter or card that made you smile?
Or better yet…who could use a little happy mail from you this week?
Maybe it’s a handwritten letter. Or a card with a personal note tucked inside. Either way, I have a feeling it would make someone’s day. 
And if you’ll excuse me…I think I have a letter to write.
I hope you have a happy day and a reason to smile.
Anyway… Off We Go. 
Here’s to finding light in unexpected places, maybe even your mailbox! 
© Erica Shoemaker | Anyway… Off We Go.
