I always have a soft spot for the mail carrier, but it’s not what you might think. It’s not the uniform, and I tend of become obsessed with the letter carrier regardless of race, sex, religion, height, weight, sexual preference, etc. I like mail carriers because I think of them as real, personal agents of communication that transcends miles and oceans. They physically bring the things our friends and loved ones have written or simply touched to us no matter where we are.
Of course, they bring bills and junk, too. But they don’t forward your junk mail from place to place to place. They do forward personal mail. A letter from my parents once followed me through four countries when I was traveling in Europe and not staying long anywhere, finally catching up to me on my last stop, all with a regular air mail stamp. They forward bills too, but bills are a fact of life. Better they reach you than go unpaid until a collection agency knocks.
Yes, I am a big fan of the United States Postal Service. I always have been. I’ve moved around a lot in my life and the Post Office has always been extraordinary at making sure my letters reach me. For years I’ve done my Christmas shopping online and they get my gifts to my family every year. I have sustained some of my deepest and most important relationships with the aid of real mail delivered by postal carriers. Sure they are not perfect. Things have been delayed, lost or damaged, but its been rare, extraordinarily rare given the number of pieces that have passed through the USPS to and from me and the number of pieces they handle in general. Check out their stats. There you’ll find out things like the fact that the USPS processes 24 million pieces of mail each hour, on average.

On days like today postal workers really earn my respect. We got about 1 1/2 feet of snow today, and yet my mail was delivered to the house as it is on any other day. Nearly every business in town was closed, but the post office was open when I went to check my mail. It was time for one group of workers to leave when I got there, so they were digging out their cars. When the city snowplow plowed the small circle in front of the building, it had dumped a pile of snow behind them. It would not be easy for them to get out. It really made me appreciate the effort they make to get to work on days when most people don’t bother.
As I walked in I held the door for a letter carrier who, unusually, was entering the building through the front with a crate of the mail she had picked up from boxes in residential areas. The plow had blocked the driveway to the normal drop off spot. She jokingly asked if I wanted to hold the door for six more crates. I said I would, because I had nothing else to do. No one else working. But she insisted she didn’t want to hold me up, and sent me on my way.
All of central street in Wellesley was dead today. Only a few people out walking, but no businesses were open. Pet’s Coffee had opened, butmwas closed by the time I got there The post office, however, was bustling, even if it was more with workers bringing mail to and from doors than with people coming to the post office. They’d gone out to bring and pick up our mail, probably at a lot of businesses that weren’t open.
For the record, there are usually multiple UPS and FEDEX trucks on the streets of Wellesley in the afternoon at this time. I saw none today. Not a one, the whole time I was out.
The Wellesley Square Post office is staffed with friendly, helpful people who, apparently, are also quite dedicated. I sure would have been tempted to call in sick today if I worked there or had to distribute mail.
Kudos and respect, my friends! And thank you postal workers! It really makes stamps seem a bargain!
Speaking of which, did you see the one above? 8 cents! I don’t know if that is a first class letter stamp, but if it is then it is old. I don’t remember an 8 cent letter. It’s about time the USPS issued another stamp honoring its own workers!