The Reindeer Keeper

When I came across an 8-page letter written by my mother about her Nursing School's graduating class I realized how much I missed receiving letters in the mail. It used to be so exciting-walking to the mailbox-opening it-and finding a letter with my name on it. I'd skip all the way back down the driveway-waiting to open it once I was back in the house and in my room. Receiving a letter was a personal event. It was like fireworks on the 4th of July. Someone had bothered to sit down and spend time writing to me. Then the envelope had to be addressed-postage had to be placed in that upper right-hand corner-then either dropped in a mailbox or taken to a post office. It was an effort to write a letter-and when I'd receive a letter that effort was appreciated. I remember having a special box sitting on top of my desk in my bedroom. That's where I kept all my cards and letters. Sometimes I'd go through all of them-taking each one out and rereading them. I loved looking ...

For some reason I can't attach the picture I wanted to with this Post so please use your imagination! (I'll post it to my Facebook page-Barbara Briggs Ward). This all started stirring in my head on Christmas Eve as I watched my 3-year old granddaughter open some gifts. Of course she was excited-ripping paper off one and then another; spending seconds looking at each and then moving on to the next. When she got to the 'big' one-so big that I hadn't been able to wrap it, she hesitated. It was obvious she was trying to figure out how to get at what was hidden inside the two very large, oversized gift bags. With her Daddy's help she removed the bags-and discovered a-to-die-for, brightly-colored easel. One side was a chalkboard with a tray for chalk; the other was the easel with cup holders for paints and things. She would soon unwrap another easel gift-one with the chalk and paints and brushes and paper. I say it was a to-die-for easel because I put my...