A Lost Art

I"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." -Maya Angelou 

Handwritten letters absolutely melt my heart. I suppose that is the secret writer within me manifesting itself in my life. I have always loved the physical act of putting pen to paper and pouring out my thoughts and feelings to be received by another person. More than that, though, I love the joy a handwritten note creates. 

Since I began school I have been a constant stream of short stories about my weekend and imaginative fantasies, but my favorite form of writing has always been a kind note sent to a friend. 

It's kind of my thing. 

Such a vital piece of who I am relies on making others feel appreciated. I know all too well what being taken advantage of feels like, what being skimmed over feels like, what receiving no credit feels like. It's horrid and dangerous and breeds ambivalence and virulence.

Which is why I write letters.

I cannot control the events that may happen in a friend's life, but I can certainly influence a brief moment of happiness, a brief moment of joy. Perhaps I am naive, even narcissistic for believing I can create joy, but given the choice, I would rather fail trying than not try at all. 

During graduation season, I don't bother to stock up on generic cards. I receive more delight in recording spontaneous memories and shared experiences that are specific to my friend. I want to convey my pride and assurance that they will do great things beyond high school. To me, that is more heartfelt, sincere, and valuable than any cookie cutter, Hallmark card could ever be. 

I write thank you letters to let friends know how much I appreciate their gifts and their presences. I make sure to let the people I love and admire aware of their invaluable worth in my eyes. Every year, dating back to elementary school, I have given my teachers a combination of baked goods, Christmas cards, and letters of gratitude. 

I promise I'm not a suck-up... I simply want people to feel appreciated. 

Regardless of what other students were doing or saying, I always felt compelled to make sure my teachers felt appreciated. As I got older, I realized just how important kind words are. When other high school students were busy hating teachers, insisting they were being purposely failed, I felt a conviction stronger than ever to reach out to those who had invested so much in me. 

I have been blessed with excellent teachers. (that almost doesn't seem strong enough... They're basically the reason we're not all working at McDonalds our entire lives.... you should really thank someone for that.) While students and parents are so quick to blame teachers, to let them know what they're doing wrong, I always felt a responsibility to let them know how significantly they had impacted my life. In an environment that fed on hostility and teenage angst I wanted to make sure those who had taught me for one, two, even three years knew how much I appreciated their work. 

It's amazing what a few kind words will do. Not only does it make the recipient feel acknowledged and grateful, it makes me feel as though I have made a difference. Perhaps that is selfish, but it brought joy to my heart to see someone else smile. Even as a little munchkin I knew that kind words sent to another were priceless. 

It costs nothing to be a decent human being. 

I suppose this post relies heavily on the principles I outlined last week. Using the gifts and talents we possess to enrich the lives of those around us is exactly what we were called to do. Writing, although it is hard for me to believe, is one of my gifts. It is only in re-reading cards and letters I have saved that I came to the realization that I have been using it since I began scribbling the alphabet. 

It's my thing. 

xoxo, 

jkd