Someone told me recently that my sole reason
for sending reams of Happy Mail over the years
was because I wanted to receive comments about how kind I am.
That, apparently, I “only do things that give gratification.”
Wow, don’t hold back, why don’t you tell me what you really think?
(I’m putting their comments down to a bad day. We all have them.)
My reasoning for sending reams of Happy Mail is because it’s fun.
It doesn’t need a purpose.
I don’t feel holier than thou when I drop mail into the postbox.
People like to receive unexpected cards and letters.
(My best friend’s MiL writes around a dozen letters a week.
Mum was a prolific writer of letters).
I had a large collection of stationery – postcards, notebooks and the like –
that would never have been put to good use otherwise.
So, what’s my point?
I wrote a few personal notes yesterday; a thank-you note
and a hi-how-are-you kind of note,
and got to thinking about how some of those early recipients of Happy Mail
have become friends, both via social media and in real life.
And I don’t have a problem with that at all.
You could say I’m gratified.
Isn’t today’s Happy Mail, in all its forms, merely a 21st Century version
of the old Pen Pal Clubs?