‘GOTTA LOVE THE USPS – It’s the thought that counts

Soon after I graduated from high school, the mailman brought a letter from my Great Aunt Frederica. She was reputedly the “rich” maiden aunt who hid money behind wallpaper, under clothes in drawers, in purses sitting open on the dining table, each filled with bills of different denominations. How would Aunt “Rika” reward me for my hard work and achievement?

I opened the envelope and out fell four wrapped sticks of juicy fruit gum!

I laughed and thanked the mailman who had delivered to me one of life’s greatest lessons: It’s the thought that counts!

 I have been a fan of the US Postal service since I was a tot, when Grandma would let me bring in the mail.  I was the happy extension of the one who connected us in Sioux City, Iowa with the world  - our mailman. Whenever we moved to another state, I trusted the Post Office with my lifeline to my Grandma who, incidentally, was a terrific letter writer.

 Over time I aged into responsibilities. I didn’t always welcome the bills that were dropped into my box (keeping me honest) but I always welcomed the deliverer. He (in those days it was always a he) worked for that sacredly mysterious all-American “company” that served every person in the country. There were no distinctions made by where you lived or what was your name, the stamp was your ticket to your community and to everything dear to you. The stamp represented faith in our government.  For me, the Post Office was as sacred as the Presidency.

 Over the decades I have seen that great institution serve us through wars and calamities, always keeping us in touch with life. Mail has traversed the world and has been our domestic source of communication. It is a great example of a national system stretching beyond race, color, or creed: it functions for all.

 Now, that beloved institution is being attacked as never before. Yes, we have been painfully made aware that the USPS is not paying for itself. It was designed to serve everybody and it will always need subsidies.

However, today we are faced with the wedding of the postal service and the election. The engagement has been announced and the ceremony will take place in November. This is not the time for the postmaster general to change the locks or hinges on the church door. Now is the time to see that this wedding takes place – on time – and that all the guests have a seat in the church!

 Yesterday Leonard, my friendly mailman, handed me my ballot. After carefully marking it, I plan to take it directly to my local Post Office. I trust that great institution of mine to deliver it on time for counting.

And Aunt “Rika”? After her death a few years later, my mailman delivered a cashier’s check for four thousand dollars. I figured it worked out to be a juicy thousand bucks for each stick of gum.  How is that for service?