I don’t always have such a positive attitude. Almost never, actually. Especially when it comes to USPS.
I have more complaints than compliments about this broken system. And let’s face it, the postal service seems more prone to failure than to success.
This seemed evident when I pulled an envelope out of the mailbox that had been partially burned and torn right in half.
The beautiful card with a handwritten note from my dear aunt looked like it had gone straight from the paper shredder to the ashtray. What exactly goes on at those mail processing plants? I mean, how does this even happen?
Anyway, the folks over at USPS slapped some tape on the envelope and dropped it in a plastic bag, which didn’t do much to remedy the poor condition of the letter. But these efforts were likely instrumental in allowing the message of that sweet letter to reach me. My aunt’s message of love and gratitude shined through, despite the less than desirable packaging.
So often, my own important messages to those I love are threatened by the carelessness of day-to-day life. Because I too, it seems, am more prone to failure than to success.
I am a broken person. Torn up, burned out, damaged in a million different ways. My own packaging so often leaves much to be desired and my little family knows this more than anyone else.
My hot temper can char their tender hearts in two seconds flat. My criticism can tear their self-worth to shreds. And my lack of attention can leave them feeling unworthy.
But despite my ugliness and imperfection, I have no doubt that one message remains clear to them. The message of love. It’s not perfect and it doesn’t always look pretty. But it is there and I try hard to ensure that the message is received. Even if it comes out a little torn, a little blemished, and a little later than it should.
So, while I am disappointed with USPS for their carelessness in handling my mail, I am somewhat impressed that someone over there looked at these marred scraps of paper and still saw value in making sure the message was delivered. I suppose it can still be considered a success, despite the obvious failures that were involved.
And even when I am disappointed for the way certain messages of mine are delivered to my children and husband, I will still consider myself a success if, in my failures, they still receive the message of love that is meant specifically for them.