Return to Sender

Hello Dear Ones. I hope you have found something today that made you feel the ground under your feet, the sunlight on your face, and the value of your presence in the world.

Today’s draft is inspired by a sweet mystery of a letter that arrived in our mailbox last week.

Addressed to the family of “John,”

the letter arrived

tucked between the ValPak and a past due parking ticket.

Such a rare thing — handwritten,

fingerprint smudge on the corner,

crooked flap suggesting hasty closure.

We could not resist — we opened it.

Tried to glance sparingly,

taking not too much

of what was not ours.

Just enough to know

the letter was one step of 12 and

we did not know was supposed to receive it.

Somewhere out there

a person with a black ball point pen and careful cursive

sent his amends on a wind.

We folded up the paper,

tucked it back into the envelope,

wrote (beneath Return to Sender)

“I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

I love you.”

(A prayer we hoped could be ours to give.)