BOOKS & SNAIL MAIL

I read an article recently that caught my attention. It was about a charitable organization called Imagination Library. Founded by superstar Dolly Parton and launched in her hometown of Sevierville, Tennessee, it distributes free books to underprivileged children starting from birth until they start school. Once a month every child in the program receives a book addressed to him or her in the mail. I smiled, picturing the joy on the face of a young child receiving their monthly book delivery.

I was reminded of the books I read and loved when I was a child, back in the days when my library card was the portal to a magic kingdom. On Saturdays, my older sister and I would ride our bikes to the public library in our small town and check out as many books as were allowed and that would fit in our bike baskets. Heaven for the school-age me was a day spent with my nose buried in a book (for the adult me as well, although the opportunities are rarer these days!). I devoured The Wonderful Wizard of Oz series before moving on to the Little House on the Prairie, Nancy Drew, and The Boxcar Children series. Among the stand-alone titles I read and loved are Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne, Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe, The Secret Garden and The Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers, and Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter (I still play the Glad Game, which I learned from this somewhat creaky novel with its timeless lessons about humility and gratitude).

I was also reminded of how special it was to get mail addressed to me back then. Keep in mind this was in a pre-digital era when snail mail was known simply as “mail” and before I was of an age to receive junk mail or bills. A postcard or letter addressed to me was a big deal. I still have the love letters my first boyfriend sent me when I was fourteen, stored in a box in my closet. Receiving those letters in the mail was super cool. The boy who wrote them must not have been so cool because I broke up with him after two dates. (I imagine he’s gotten over his heartbreak by now.)

Speaking of which, that reminds me of the time my mom opened a letter that had arrived in the mail addressed to my dad. Curiosity got the better of her, I suppose. She paid the price when she saw it was a love letter. Needless to say, Mom was shocked and horrified. Later, it became a family joke. Because, you see, the letter addressed to “Jim Goudge” was intended for my brother, who was named after my dad but went by the nickname of “Jimmy.” The sender was a girl in his class at school who had a crush on him.

But I digress. Back to the subject of receiving a free book in the mail…I can’t think of any gift I’d rather give or get, at any age. Can you?