You've got mail. It's cliché, but there really aren't many sweeter words. Getting the physical mail on Ladyslipper Lane is a big deal. There's usually a fair amount because the King has a public position. All of that is well and good and necessary, but if there's something personal like a letter or note (handwritten!!!) it's almost like Christmas. Everything stops, I get a cup of coffee and then sit down to savor the missive and the experience.

Do children even learn to do cursive anymore? My dad has beautiful handwriting and still sends an occasional letter. He used to make me sit and practice loops and slants. “Use your whole forearm, not just your wrist. Hold the pen lightly. Keep the loops even and between the lines. Here, watch me.” I still like to watch him write. Probably from the memory of a stern penmanship teacher with a ruler in her hand, he addresses the project seriously then makes several large loops just above the paper before he touches pen to it. Then he writes. Sharp and crisp. Beautiful. Completely unique.

I fear letter writing is a lost art. Nowadays communication is e-mail (with all kinds of acronyms and abbreviations, most of which I don't understand). It's done in a hurry; therefore, emotion is missing and misunderstanding on the other end often occurs—trust me, I've learned the hard way on this one.

But today time is a hard taskmaster; and who can or wants to look for nice paper, go to the post office to buy stamps, figure out where we put that person's address and actually formulate a letter, not to mention have to wait weeks for an answer!

So we e-mail and thank God for it.

My sister and I have kept up an e-mail correspondence for days now in our discussion of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. We have different view points, on which we respectfully spar; but when we see the same or express an illuminating thought – ooohhhh! Precious.

Like a cool drink of water when you're worn out and weary is a letter from a long lost friend. Proverbs 25:25