As the line in that Arcade Fire song goes, “It seems strange, how we used to wait for letters to arrive. But what’s stranger still, is how something so small can keep you alive.”
And it’s quite true. Seeing an envelope in your mailbox that isn’t a bill or spam really does have the power to keep you on an upbeat for at least a couple of days. However, when I received my last from my mother (which included a new toothbrush and deodorant to help me save a bit of money), I had another reason to smile that day.
When I went down to pick up my package in the front office of the residence, I forgot to bring any identification to prove I was the person for whom the package had come.
“It’s not a problem,” the guardian reassured me. “I remember you. I don’t know everyone who lives here, but I know who you are. You’re from Toronto right?”
And that small thing was a little reassuring, and kind of comforting. Though I hadn’t really ever felt like I was in a strange land, it was a reminder that I shouldn’t feel like I was a stranger in it either.
. . .