"... nothing gives me such a sense of life still being worth while as to receive a letter from one of the 'kindred spirits' of the leisurely old days. For a moment or two I find myself back there in the unhurried years and emerge from my brief communion with the past refreshed as if I had drunk a rejuvenating draught from some magic spring."L.M. MONTGOMERY, Letter to G.B. MacMillan, August 26, 1924
For me, there is nothing like sitting down to write a letter the old-fashioned way—with pen and pretty stationery, envelopes and postage stamps. I admit to a decline in this pursuit over the years. Partly because it's so easy to stay in touch with family and friends via email, text messages, and social media. Sad to say, as a result, my penmanship has taken a gradual decline into chicken scratch hieroglyphics. Probably because now my keyboarding muscles are more dominant than my pen holding muscles. I do practice my handwriting once in while - concentrating on forming the cursive lettering as if I were back in Grade 3 or 4. To keep my hand in, as it were. Not to mention, to make it easier for my friends to read a letter from me without too much squinting and head scratching.
As a child I watched my mom write letters and mail greeting cards for every occasion to family and friends as the chief way of keeping in touch. I recall when my little Grade 4 friend, Heidi Trussell, moved away with her family, we promised to write each other. I was tickled with the idea of writing to her, like a pen pal. Strangely enough, even though I started my letter, it never got sent off. Perhaps I never learned her new address, so it was a lost dream. I probably wrote, "Dear Heidi, How are you? I am fine. Do you like your new school? I miss you." So original.
In my youth one of my favourite places to visit, next to the book section of a department store, was the greeting card outlets, like Hallmark. So many choices to feast one's eyes on. Finding the right message to convey what I wanted to say was a delightful but excruciating search sometimes - it had to be just so. And my heart always knew when it was 'perfect' - yes, that's the one. I wanted messages to convey encouragement or inspiration or to make someone laugh, depending on the situation. I never felt confident enough to express my feelings in my own words. I relied on the words of others. Still, it filled a need of staying in touch with people I cared about. And I'd get that thrill of the heart when I'd hear from a friend saying my note was just what she needed at the time. When I went away to college I wrote copious letters home always waiting for return mail. How horrid the semester when there was a nationwide postal strike. And no mail for weeks! I'd still go to the post office sometimes, hoping against hope there'd be a letter miraculously appearing from home, and being devastated when there wasn't anything. I became aware then how much letter writing meant to families in those days. No Internet, no text messaging, no Zoom. Phone calls were far too costly to make regularly. Pen and paper were our lifeline.
As I reflect on how Lucy Maud Montgomery has influenced my life, she certainly inspired my letter writing habits. Delighted was I to find two volumes at the library years ago of her published letters (links below). Such a delight to catch glimpses of her wide range of interests, "from domestic concerns, her cats and gardening, to her professional literary career as best-selling author". I loved her way of describing the world around her, how she set out her thoughts for someone else to read. They were entertaining as well as newsy and informative. From her examples, I imagined how I could become more creative and more interesting in my own letters. I began to step out and use my own words. It took great effort and mulling to express my thoughts in ways that made sense and were as beautifully composed as Lucy Maud's or what I read on those pretty greeting cards. I have always secretly hoped I sent off missives that were newsy, encouraging as well as entertaining, but only recipients of those long ago letters could confirm whether I was successful or not. 😉
As I mentioned, I found two collections with some of Ms. Montgomery's letters, one with her Scottish literary friend, George Boyd MacMillan. And one with Ephraim Weber, who was a young writer living in Alberta, Canada. I enjoyed reading both and still find excerpts from them copied into my old commonplace books.
edited by Francis W.P. Bolger and Elizabeth R. Epperly
edited by Wilfrid Eggleston
In the early days of lockdown and isolation during the Covid-19 pandemic, one of my creative pursuits was to pick up my pen, dust off my dormant love of writing old-fashioned notes, and send them off the snail-mail way. I stocked up on boxes of artsy blank greeting cards (thanks to Amazon's delivery service). Along with my handwritten notes, I'd tuck in small surprises: sachets of tea, quotes, stickers, blank postcards, anything fun that snugged inside a card-size envelope. The real thrill for me was imagining a friend's face when she discovered real mail waiting for her in the mailbox. Hopefully those notes created a bond of heart connection between sender and recipient during that tumultuous time in our history. What was it that John Donne once said: More than kisses, letters mingle souls. For thus, friends absent speak. We needed a little mingling of the souls when, for many of us, our physical bodies could not gather together in the usual way.
Now, with the holidays around the corner, comes the time of year when I still love shopping for and sending out beautiful Christmas cards with handwritten notes tucked inside to family and friends. (With a postal strike in our country as this post goes up, who knows if that will be possible this year - hopefully they'll settle things soon.)
Next week will be the last in my series about Lucy Maud Montgomery and her influence in my life. Which wraps up my month long celebration of one of my favourite author's 150th anniversary of her birth—November 30, 1874. I hope to see you then. And, if you missed the previous posts, mind the links below.
❦
Wishing you a beautiful weekend,
(it's snowing here 😊)
Brenda
Photo credits:
(Top) Image by Pezibear from Pixabay
Book Covers from Amazon
My blogging schedule:
I post on Fridays
Hi Brenda, I really enjoyed your post about the old-fashioned art of letter writing. I, too, love writing letters and sending cards. When I was growing up my mom and her three sisters wrote numerous letters to each other as well as letters to their mom. I was given a box of letters that my mom had written to my Aunt Edith. They were filled with everyday happenings almost like a diary. They are a real treasure. What I like about letters is that you have the initial pleasure of receiving one, you can then reread it and then you can write back. Sure hope our postal strike is resolved soon. Thanks for all the posts you write for us to enjoy. Elaine (in Toronto)
ReplyDeleteAh, cards and letters. They are such treasures. Recently, my cousin gave me some postcards—a couple, my Dad sent when he was overseas during the war, and others my parents sent to his mom back in the 1960s. Priceless. I remember strings hung from wall to wall in our living room at this time of year to display Christmas cards Mom and Dad received. I haven’t sent cards for many years, but still receive a few in the mail (but, not this year, I suppose).
ReplyDeleteI am so enjoying your reflections on the inspiration L.M.M. brought to your life. A hand written letter in the mail is a real gift, and there are all too few of them these days.
ReplyDeleteHow well I remember running over to the post office in the freezing Saskatchewan winter wind hoping for a letter from home. And then, during our first 15 or so years in Ecuador, letters were a lifeline I clung to for bits of home that traveled to the jungle.
Having been on the receiving end of your lovely missives, I thank you! And I certainly hope the postal strike ends quickly.
New thread please! the Lucy Maud topic is way past the expiration date, time to move on.
ReplyDelete