Hand Delivered Mail
During the time our oldest son, Gary, spent in Vietnam, letters became very important to us. They were our one family connection to that place that seemed so far away.

Through each day, I made written notes of incidents and thoughts and that evening I would put them in a letter to Gary. I made sure that each day one was dropped in the “outgoing” mail slot at the Post Office, so that he would get a letter every day. He was to later tell me that he didn’t receive one each day, but got them in “bunches”. He also said that he shared them with others who did not receive mail from home.

We didn’t receive a daily letter either. He [Gary] wrote as often as he could. When we found a letter in our box, we were cheerful and optimistic. Other times we had “low days”.

Mail was delivered to our house around noon, Monday through Saturday. Early one Sunday morning we received a telephone call from a local postal clerk, who told us there was a letter from our son. Since the office was closed, if we would come to the back door of the Post Office, he would give it to us. He added that he was sure we would want to get it quicker than the next day.

What a nice person!!! We didn’t know him that well, but he must have known our situation and was so thoughtful.

Of course, we hurried to the Post Office and read the welcome letter several times. It made this day one of the “good ones”.

I learned something from the events of that Sunday morning which I have tried to remember. This is; there are people in the world who do good things without expecting rewards or recognition. Their unselfishness makes life better for all of us!!!
Nona E. Graham    Then and Now
Lindsay, Oklahoma


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