a friend made and kept through correspondence.
a person with whom one becomes acquainted through a friendly, regular correspondence.
a person with whom one keeps up an exchange of letters, usually someone so far away that a personal meeting is unlikely.
Once upon a very long, homeschooled time ago, I had a pen-pal. Her name was Erin. She lived in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. We wrote letters to each other. We made cross-stitched wall hangings for each other. We (I did, anyway.) addressed our letters so poorly at times that it was miraculous they reached their intended destination. She always wrote on the prettiest paper and had lovely handwriting that spoke of fun, wholesomeness, discipline, and a dash of something else that I was too sheltered to put my finger on.
It was magic.
And her name is still Erin.
We had ‘lost touch’ for a few years. I hate that term. We got busy figuring out who we were and what life was all about for us. Now that we are grown, technology has given us social networking. Facebook stumbled us back together. We ‘met’ the first time through the well-meaning intentions of educating mothers. We bonded the second time, of our own choice, through the World Wide Web.
We are not the little girls we were then. Things have changed for each of us. Life has made us different people. What we have managed to keep, though we are grown and independent, is the magic. The special ingredient that can take 2 little girls penning missives to each other, and reunite them lifetimes later, and they are still the epistle-sisters that they were, way back when. Prehaps we are closer now than we were. Yes. I think so. Because we have (hopefully) by now learned something of what it is to be a friend. We have learned what is important in life and have stuck to it as best we know how. We have learned how to love and to give pieces of ourselves for the edifying of another person.
The language I speak in terms of affection is the giving of gifts.
While knitting the accessory indicated in a previous post, I thought about how warm it was going to be. I imagined how it would look and feel.
It gave itself away. Upon completion, it found its way into a Priority envelope, stole my credit card, and mailed itself in all its glory to Wisconsin. I didn’t really even think about it. I just knew where it was meant to be. I am not bragging. I am simply telling the story. There will be more. I am excited for the ‘more’.
Maybe we will finally meet.