Whatever happened to all that penmanship our elementary teachers hounded us about with dotted lines? All those rewrites and all that time spent with my tongue hanging out to get the curve just right. Whatever happened to handwriting?

A few days ago, I got a letter in the mail. Well, not technically in the mailbox, but in my email inbox. I glanced at the message from a dear Honduran friend, but didn’t stop to click on the attachment. I knew it needed more time, so I postponed until today.

I found this letter after clicking on the “document.pdf” file and I’ve probably read it a zillion times since.

There’s something about pen to paper that can’t be imitated in typed script. No number of fonts can capture the haphazard curve of the “s” or the way the “i” doesn’t have a dot hovering over it’s rigid line.

There’s something very special about handwriting and about the kindred spirits who use it to communicate a stronger emotion than can get lost on the keyboard.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy

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