The Reindeer Keeper

I have a drawer in an old cupboard where I keep phone books. Lots of old phone books. Some people find it funny that I keep them when we now have phones that store people's phone numbers, making them available to us instantly on demand. While on demand saves you time, it also deprives you of a moment of slowing down and searching pages full of names and addresses and those phone numbers.  I've always considered phone books to be mini history books of a certain place and a certain time. They offer glimpses of names of people who may have moved or passed away or once been your neighbor on a street of long ago. They highlight businesses, everything from corner stores you may have frequented on your way home from school to retail stores that might have since been torn down or closed or moved away. They list the banks. The schools. The funeral homes. The industries and lawyers and hospitals and everything else that makes up a community. And we can't forget those Yellow Pages. I ...

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 ...