"If I ever write an autobiography," I said to my husband one day, "I should call it 'Bigger than A Breadbox.'" He smiled in agreement, having known for years about my childhood breadbox letters. He'd also witnessed the widening of my world when a 1993 magazine article brought me mail, introduced me to people in unexpected places, and took us both (eventually) to the other side of the earth.
I've written many letters since the ones I penned (or more likely penciled) to "Paul." I have been blessed to receive quite a number as well. Some of these I keep in a breadbox, one almost identical to that in which I mailed letters to long-ago-Paul. In weeks to come I hope to share a few excerpts from these, for they are wise, often witty, and many times profound. They make me glad I once practiced writing at a breadbox. For who knows? Maybe it was "Paul" who actually made me love writing letters.
In that case, I suppose the breadbox has yielded a return…
(photo © Nancy Shuman; all rights reserved)
