A Very Popular Mailbox

For a while, I felt sorry for my mailbox.

Most days, it sat there quietly with nothing inside except the occasional bill.

So I decided to help.

I donated to a few charities that often mailed calendars, greeting cards, address labels, and newsletters.

I thought my mailbox might enjoy a little more company.

It worked.

There was mail every day.

Initially, I was excited.

Soon there were so many that opening the mailbox became an event. As I opened each envelope, reply cards, donation forms, stickers, and return envelopes floated onto the floor like autumn leaves. I didn't know what to do with all the promotional materials. Finding an actual bill became a treasure hunt.

Some organizations wrote twice a week. Others kindly introduced me to even more organizations by sharing my name.

Before long, my once lonely mailbox had become far too popular.

Out of exhaustion, I found myself contacting nonprofits and asking them to stop writing to me. That turned out to be much harder than getting onto the mailing lists in the first place.

Now, when I open my mailbox and find almost nothing inside, I feel relieved.

A quiet mailbox no longer feels lonely. It feels peaceful.

Looking back, I don't think I wanted a full mailbox after all. I simply wanted one envelope worth opening.

In the end, a life is not measured by how well it was defended.

It is measured by how it was lived.