What do you think of when you hear the word, “stationery”? Do you enjoy spending time in Hallmark stores and boutiques like “The Papery”? Or do you cringe at the thought?
I like paper. Not in a Dunder-Mifflin kind of way. No, I like writing papers. When I open my mailbox and see a handwritten envelope with an address label of one of my friends, I smile, walk quickly back into the house, put the stack of mail on the counter, then pull out the special envelope and put it at my place at our kitchen table.
I delight in its existence. I can’t wait to open it.
But I do.
I make a cup of tea, kick off my shoes and slowly sit in my chair, eagerly awaiting the discovery of the contents of the special envelope.
“Mmm…nice stationery,” I think as I flip over the card.
Yeah. It’s a moment for me.
When I was a teen, my friends and I loved to discover beautiful papers or fun cards. We wrote letters to each other even though we lived less than a few miles away. We wrote to each other at summer camp. My favorite stationery was a fold-over Snoopy note card that served as its own envelope. Fold the bottom up and the top down, then turn it around and boom! There’s your address box. Sort of like a postcard, sort of like an envelope.
Later,
