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Home > Pulpwood Queen Blog > Archives > 2006 > August > 25

Friday, August 25, 2006

The Power of the Hand-Written Word

Have you ever noticed that people do not write letters like they use to anymore? It is funny. There is nothing I love to receive more than a card or letter.

I got a bunch this week due to the big birthday and each one is such a treasure.

When you walk to the mailbox and you see that envelope hand addressed, a certain thrill of anticipation runs up my spine. A letter! To me, it is kind of like seeing your stocking filled for the first time on Christmas morning. You know that you are in for a treat.

You notice the stamps and sometimes postcard from far away places. As I collect postcards, I see them as another addition to my collection. I save the letters too and nothing is more thrilling that to read a letter that someone wrote you years ago. Instantly, you are taken back to that time and place. I have letters from my Grandmother Mudd that she wrote to me when I moved to California. They really did not say a whole lot except if you read between the lines you learn that she took the time to sit down and write to me personally, I treasure those cards and letters as much as the finest jewelry and diamonds.

My Daddy recently brought me a sack of old photographs of my sisters and me as children. I think they were actually photographs that my Grandmother Mudder had, as down in the bottom amongst recipes there was a write-up she did for the Eureka Herald on her up-and-coming wedding anniversary. At the very bottom, I found letters I had written to my Mudder. She had kept them all these years and they were dated 1969 and 1970. There was the loopy hearts and flowers handwriting from my junior high days. Now why in the world I would write letters to my Mudd when she lived in the same town, I have no idea. They were funny and very telling. You knew from reading those letters that I thought my Mudder was the moon and the stars. She had saved and kept them. I was so overcome with emotion, that tears rolled down my now almost fifty-year-old cheeks.

I in turn have too saved every card, letter, note, sent to me from the years. I also have saved all the newspaper clippings from my children being in the paper for honor roll, soapbox derby, or theater production. This past weekend as I sorted through the bags and boxes of my saved collections of printed and handwritten words, I thought what am I going to do with all this stuff. I made a decision. I was on a new mission, decorating.

In my bathroom at my shop, I tack up all my correspondence. Yes, that’s right. Every postcard, letter that is addressed to me at the shop I hang up on the walls. People love my bathroom. There is so much reading material and it is all so interesting. You might read a card from author, Iris Rainer Dart, a poem from Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Edward Humes, a birthday wish from my Jaybird; it is a real treasure trove of reading material all right. I thought I would take that concept one-step further.

In the bathroom of my old shop, I have begun to decoupage every saved bit of cards, letters, and newspaper clipping on the walls. My correspondence would be my new wallpaper. After working hard at it for two days, I caught my husband standing in the bathroom reading the walls. I stood and watched him. He was totally caught up in what he was reading, exactly my purpose. I figured then since everyone knows I have built a house of books that I would instead of hiding away all my little treasures of handwritten cards, notes, and letters, I would share them in this unusual way of display.

Now my shop and house are a trip, I have everything out on display. My life is an open book, literally. All my costume jewelry, hats, scarves, belts, and purses are displayed on racks. All my books are shelved in every spare space in my house. Why shouldn’t I display my cherished keepsake words?

I have a table upstairs that needs a new coat of paint. Hmmm, If I just decoupage it think how cool that would be with all my newspaper clippings. I could probably do that alone with all features in The Marshall News Messenger on my literary and literacy events. I kind of see it as black and white and read all over. I have decided to frame one of my Grandmother Mudd’s last letters to me before she died. It was a Valentine.

Think about those kinds of projects. Then I want you to consider writing a letter too. This letter could be to a friend. This letter could be to a family member. This letter could be to you. Just sit down with some pretty stationary and write. Send that letter then you too could go to the mailbox and instead of the typical bills, solicitations, and junk mail; you could find a real treasure, something written just for you.

Have you ever received a letter that changed your life? What is your best letter-writing story? I love to hear from you and hope you are enjoying my weekly blogs.

Tiara wearing, Book, and Letter writing sharing,

Kathy L. Patrick

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