Believe it or not, the entire experience of writing a letter, addressing
the envelope, placing a stamp on it, and personally putting it in the
mail is a novel one for most of the sixth graders I teach. As the culmination of the Gratitude Challenge, and because the weather was a gorgeous 80 degrees here, today my students and I walked to the mailbox on the far corner of campus to physically post their thank-you notes.
After overcoming the exacting task of properly placing name, street, city, state and zip code on a tiny envelope, they joyfully ran down the sidewalks and across the fields to the intersection where a vintage mailbox stands bolted to the pavement. With wonder they pulled the worn metal handle to reveal the yawning maw of that blue beast and gleefully sacrificed their offerings to the postal gods. Then they skipped back to their school, eager to continue their lessons.
After overcoming the exacting task of properly placing name, street, city, state and zip code on a tiny envelope, they joyfully ran down the sidewalks and across the fields to the intersection where a vintage mailbox stands bolted to the pavement. With wonder they pulled the worn metal handle to reveal the yawning maw of that blue beast and gleefully sacrificed their offerings to the postal gods. Then they skipped back to their school, eager to continue their lessons.
You are so right, we rarely actually mail anything anymore. What a perfect day for a walk to the mailbox.
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