Stamp Collection

I have never had a collection of anything. Actually, that may not be true, as a baby my Mom collected stuffed bunnies on my behalf. As a little girl, I loved getting out all of my bunnies and taking turns sleeping with them each. When I grew out of the bunnies, I moved onto quarters—but that didn’t stay long; I ended up spending more than I saved. And then one day, we received a pamphlet in the mail for a stamp collection. The pamphlet invited the reader to fill out a simple form to receive a stamp collection starter kit, complete with 12 sets of stamps ranging from the late 50’s to present day. With the help of my mother I filled out the form and sent away for my stamp collection.

            Two weeks later I received my stamps, in a neat package labeled with my name and address. It was the first real package I had ever received, and I was ecstatic. The contents of that package became my very own treasures, I got to unwrap and examine every single item. The stamps themselves were mildly interesting; they included stamps of Donald Duck and Goofy, roses, airplanes, and even President’s, all of the things that I loved—but that wasn’t what made them special to me. What made them special was the fact that they had come through the mail, in a brown paper package, addressed just to me. I got to receive it, I got to open it, and it was my very own package full of wonderful things. I felt like a grown-up—my Mom and Dad always got mail, but finally here was something of my own.

            The stamp collection eventually got lost. I don’t know where it went, probably into a box somewhere in the basement, or the trash bin in the garage. It was never really about the stamp collection for me, it was about the mail. Even now, I get excited to go to the mailbox. I love knowing that something has my name printed on it and was sent directly to me, for no one else.

Letter-writing has almost become a long-lost art, most of the time I open my mailbox to receive newspapers and bills, with an occasional wedding announcement or baby shower invitation. The last time I opened my mailbox and got an actual letter? I probably couldn’t even tell you. Somehow, in all the hustle and bustle of daily communication and to-do lists, we’ve lost the art of letters. Writing a letter used to be an event; long, wordy letters on thick parchment. Letters were the only option for long-distance communication, there was no other way to stay in touch with your family and friends. Advancements in technology within my short lifespan of 22 years has completely changed that, now I can talk to my friend in England just as easily as I talk to my brother in Arizona. It’s been a wonderful thing, a tool for connectivity. But perhaps in all of this technological connection, we’ve lost personal connections.

This first experience of receiving mail left an impact on me, and I’ve loved getting mail ever since. I know that feeling of euphoria when you receive a new package, or get a letter from a friend. My personal experiences prompted me to write more letters; I write to my brothers who live far away, to my friends in other countries, to my sister who lives at home, and to my aunt and grandparents. All of these people are only a phone call away, with the miracle of technology I can simply pick up my iPhone 7 and call my Mom, or FaceTime my grandparents, and even Snapchat my friends. And I do all of those things, but I also like to write them letters. Because nothing is quite as wonderful as opening up the mailbox one day and finding a letter addressed to you, from a friend, for maybe no reason at all. Simply to say hi, how are you? And to take some time to catch up on their life.

Writing letters has become a creative outlet for me, a way to communicate and show my love for someone in my life who may be near or far geographically. I’ve loved sharing these experiences with my friends and family, we talk about our lives and our interests, our daily activities. The people that I write with will never be forgotten, we’ve strengthened our connection to each other. And to think, it all started from a package of stamps.