On my refrigerator is a birthday card that is several years old.  I honestly don’t remember what the front of the card looks like, but I know that the inside is bright pink.  And I don’t know exactly what is printed on that card, but I remember the exact feeling I felt when I read those words.  The writer of those words quickly jotted down a few sentences, placed a stamp on front and popped it in the mail.  End of story.  For her.

But for me, it’s still there.  It’s gotten covered by a multitude of other things: notes from school, wedding invitations, birth announcements, drawings and original works of art by my favorite artists.  But occasionally I’ll get a little glimpse of bright pink and I smile, the warmth of the moment I first read it rushing back into my center.

Today I got another letter in the mail.  The front is multi-colored and bright and happy.  The sentiments printed inside are even more uplifting.  Full of kind, yet personal, words it doesn’t seem right to display on the fridge.  And so I’ll tuck it away in my “love box” with all the other little paper keepsakes that mean something extra-ordinary to me.

A few weeks ago, Stephanie had a little giveaway on her blog, Adventures in Babywearing.  I was one of the first commenters and as a result, a nice, big package of Hallmark cards showed up in my mailbox.  (Squeee!!!) Once upon a time I was the queen of card-writing.  It was rare for me to go more than a day or two without sending a card to someone.  Some were long letters.  Some just little one-liners.  But all written with love.  Somewhere between child number 2 and 4, I managed to stop writing.  I type away and connect with hundreds more people a day, but it’s not the same.  Clicking ‘Send” can’t compare to clicking up the little red flag on my mailbox.  I miss that.  And so I’m re-committing myself.  I’m going to buy a fancy pen and find a day when I can slip away from the children for a few hours.  I’ll take my time perusing my favorite card store and then sip a diet coke while rediscovering one of favorite old pastimes.

Do I have your snail mail address?
If not, I should.

This is not a sponsored post.  Hallmark doesn’t even know I’m writing it, actually.  But I do love their product and back in the day, I could spend hours in my local store.  Maybe some day soon, I’ll be able to do so again…