There is something beautiful about a hand-written letter.
Someone sat at a table or desk and drew the letters that swirled, looped, dipped and slanted into words across a blue-lined paper. Hand writing is a dying art replaced by emails and text messages that can now be created by talking at a machine.
A hand-written letter gives a deeper message than any electronic device. Letters become wrinkled with tears and tattered with anger. Letters convey personality and conviction or fear and sadness. The written word, literally written, is as close as it gets to sitting next to a person while she speaks.
I suppose an electronic device could input closed captions like [weeping], [yelling] or [frightened tone]. … But doesn’t that sound awful?
I received a letter from my child-hood piano teacher today because I wrote her a couple months ago. Her letter, as brief as it was, touched my heart. It reminded me of my mom sitting at the kitchen table writing letters every Sunday. It made me feel happy, sad, grateful and proud. I heard her voice in the words and imagined her face.
There is something so beautiful, so magical, in a letter.