“And none will hear the postman’s knock without a quickening of the heart. For who can bear to feel himself forgotten？”

“聽到郵遞員的敲門聲，沒有人不會(huì)心跳加速。畢竟有誰(shuí)能承受被人遺忘的感覺呢？”

—— W. H. Auden （W. H. 奧登，美國(guó)詩(shī)人）

When I heard the US Postal Service would no longer be delivering mail on Saturdays starting this August， a little ping of apprehension and sadness hit me. One of the best parts of my day is getting the mail. I know this is not the case for everyone. Bills come in the mail. Useless flyers from new dentists and Chinese restaurants in town also come in the mail. But every evening when I head out to my mailbox …

I hope there will be a letter.

There is little else that brings as much joy to my day as receiving a letter from my mom or a friend. In all the BBC period dramas that I obsessively watch， receiving a letter is a big deal. Women breathlessly flutter1） out of rooms so they can sit alone to read their letters. In love letters， a person’s character is determined by the quality of their penmanship2）. Answering the letters is even more of an ordeal3）， taking sometimes up to half the day depending on the amount of gossip held therein！

When I was growing up， letters were pretty much relegated4） to special occasions， like birthdays and Christmas， but it wasn’t until I went to college that the true impact of personal mail hit me. Getting mail inspired the envy of everyone in the campus post office who happened to see you， and if you were lucky enough to get a package， you’d also hope you were lucky enough not to get ambushed on the way back to your dorm. Physical mail was the connection to the people in the outside world who existed beyond the bubble of college life.

For the four and a half years that I was in college， my mom faithfully sent me a card every week. To this day， that is one of the most meaningful things she has ever done for me. Her little notes of encouragement saw me through some tough times. Every week， I knew I was going to get a card from Mom， and it didn’t matter how short the note was or what graced5） the outside of the card. What mattered was that I knew without a doubt she was thinking of me. Someone out there in the big， huge， crazy world hadn’t forgotten about me. The act of purchasing a card， writing a note， buying a stamp， and mailing the letter spoke of care and love louder than any email I ever received.

After graduating and moving on with my life， I never forgot the impact of mom’s letters. Whenever I traveled anywhere I’d keep a small address book in my purse （this was before smartphones）， along with a supply of stamps， and send postcards to my girlfriends. All of a sudden I started getting postcards from all over the world！ My fridge was covered with a mosaic of exotic pictures and familiar handwriting from my closest friends. In every circumstance we could have emailed each other and saved the trouble of mailing something in a foreign place， but that would have diminished the joy of touching a piece of paper from another part of the world where a friend was thinking of you.

I heard a story on NPR6） a few months ago about a man named Phillip Kunz who carried out a social experiment by sending 600 Christmas cards to people he had never met. He added a personal element to each one and sent them out into the void. The response was overwhelming. Suddenly he and his wife were flooded with mail from well-wishers who appreciated the Christmas card. The experiment was carried out in 1974， and to this day， Phillip still receives many Christmas cards from the original group he reached out to so many years ago.

Then， there is the matter of thank you letters. I will never forget all the times as a kid when my mother made me sit down at the dining room table and write thank you notes to anyone who’d ever sent me a check， a gift， or did something nice for me. I think she was trying to convey the importance of acknowledgement when another human being displays a kind and generous nature. We’ve all had those moments when we’ve sent a wedding gift only to never hear from the bride or groom that it was even received. Bummer7）.

It’s not about getting a huge ovation8） so you can stroke your ego about how awesomely kind you are， but it is nice to know that your friend appreciated the time and care you took to send a gift. There have been times when I’ve neglected to send a thank you note for a gift and felt like the biggest jerk， riddled with remorse， and paralyzed by laziness. I am not proud of these lapses9） in acknowledgement because the old-fashioned part of me thinks it’s only polite to say thank you. I’ve sent thank you emails and texts for the simple immediacy of letting someone know how a gift they’ve sent has thrilled me， but part of me fights against this instant gratification of the digital age for the simple fact that it’s not as personal as a letter.

When I moved into my first house last year friends and family from around the country filled my mailbox with notes welcoming me to my new home. I don’t know why it had never occurred to me to send a card when someone buys a house， but I sure will in the future！ I was blown away by the kindness and love that shined through those notes of celebration for this big step in my life.

I saved all those cards because I want to remember that time， to remember that my friends and family walked beside me encouragingly and sent their love even though they couldn’t be there. A congratulatory text is nice， but I won’t be pulling that out of the drawer in five years smiling from the memory of the joy it brought me when I received it.

Call me a sentimental fool， but I worry that the art of letter writing will be utterly lost， disappearing into the binary10） code of the future. Many schools no longer teach cursive11） handwriting， and children grow up learning how to use iPads and computers from infancy. Heck， my cats even enjoy the occasional iPad game. But something beautiful is vanishing. I can recognize who a letter is from by the handwriting on the envelope. Handwriting is part of our identity， and yet we have little need for it in the digital age， making a letter all the more special and personal.

I hope the US Postal Service can hang in there and people will be able to send letters for many years to come. I also hope that more people are encouraged to resurrect12） this lost art of communicating with the handwritten word. There are so many reasons to write a letter to someone you care about， if only to13） know that it might bring a much-needed smile to their face.

當(dāng)我聽說從今年8月起，美國(guó)郵政服務(wù)公司逢周六將不再投遞信件時(shí)，心里不由泛起一陣憂慮和沮喪。我一天中最大的樂事之一就是收信。我知道并不是所有人都這么想。郵寄過來的有賬單，也有城里新開張的牙醫(yī)診所和中餐館寄來的無(wú)用的小廣告。但是每天晚上，當(dāng)我向郵箱走去時(shí)……

我希望里面會(huì)有一封信。

幾乎沒有什么比收到媽媽或朋友的來信更讓我高興的了。在所有令我看得著迷的BBC時(shí)代劇中，收信都是一件大事。收到信的女子上氣不接下氣地慌忙跑出房間，只為了能獨(dú)自坐下來讀信。如果是情書，從一個(gè)人的書法好壞就能斷定其個(gè)性?；匦鸥且患救说男量嗷顑海鶕?jù)寫在信里的家長(zhǎng)里短的多少，有時(shí)甚至要花上半天的時(shí)間！

在我成長(zhǎng)的歲月中，信件幾乎是生日、圣誕節(jié)這樣的特殊場(chǎng)合才會(huì)使用的東西。直到上了大學(xué)，我才真正體會(huì)到私人信件的力量。如果你收到信，那在學(xué)校郵局碰見你的每個(gè)人都會(huì)對(duì)你心生嫉妒。如果你足夠幸運(yùn)，收到了包裹，那你還得祈禱自己足夠幸運(yùn)，不要在回宿舍的路上遭到伏擊。大學(xué)生活充滿虛幻色彩，而有形的書信是與這種生活之外的外部世界的人們聯(lián)系的紐帶。

在我四年半的大學(xué)生活里，媽媽堅(jiān)持不懈地每周給我寄一張卡片。直到今天，那都是她為我做過的最有意義的事情之一。她那只言片語(yǔ)的鼓勵(lì)幫助我度過了一些艱難時(shí)光。每個(gè)星期，我都知道自己將會(huì)收到媽媽寄來的卡片。無(wú)論卡片內(nèi)容多短，無(wú)論卡片外觀是否精美，我都不在乎，重要的是我確定無(wú)疑地知道她在惦記著我。在這個(gè)廣闊、瘋狂的世界里還有個(gè)人沒有忘記我。買張卡片，寫下幾句話，再買張郵票，把信箋寄出——這其中所傳達(dá)出的愛與關(guān)懷超過我收到過的任何一封電子郵件。

從學(xué)校畢業(yè)并開始新的人生階段后，我從未忘記媽媽的來信曾帶給我的影響。無(wú)論我去哪里旅行，我都會(huì)在包里放一小本通訊簿（這是在使用智能手機(jī)之前）和一些郵票，然后給女友們寄去明信片。突然之間，我也開始收到從世界各地寄來的明信片！我的冰箱上貼滿了我最親近的朋友們寄來的卡片，上面是充滿異國(guó)情調(diào)的照片和她們熟悉的字跡。其實(shí)每次我們都可以通過電子郵件聯(lián)系，省去在異國(guó)他鄉(xiāng)寄東西的麻煩，但如果那樣，觸摸著某個(gè)想念你的朋友從世界另一個(gè)地方寄來的信箋時(shí)的那份快樂就減弱了。

幾個(gè)月前，我在國(guó)家公共電臺(tái)的節(jié)目中聽到一個(gè)故事。一個(gè)名叫菲利普·孔茲的人做了一個(gè)社會(huì)實(shí)驗(yàn)，他將600張圣誕賀卡寄給了素不相識(shí)的陌生人。他在每張卡片上都添加了一些個(gè)人元素，然后將它們寄往未知的世界。結(jié)果，回信如雪片般飛來。突然之間，他和妻子收到了許多祝福者寄來的信件，這些祝福者對(duì)他們寄出的圣誕賀卡表示感謝。菲利普做這個(gè)實(shí)驗(yàn)是在1974年，這么多年過去了，直到今天，他仍然會(huì)收到當(dāng)初收到他卡片的人們寄來的許多圣誕賀卡。

接下來說說感謝信。我永遠(yuǎn)也忘不了小時(shí)候多次發(fā)生的情景：媽媽讓我坐在餐廳的桌邊，為每一個(gè)給我寄過支票、禮物或者幫助過我的人寫感謝信。我想她是在試圖讓我明白，當(dāng)別人表現(xiàn)出善意和慷慨的一面時(shí)，向他們道謝是多么重要。我們都有過這樣的經(jīng)歷：我們寄出了結(jié)婚禮物，結(jié)果新郎或新娘卻連一個(gè)是否收到禮物的回音都沒給我們。真是令人失望。

這并不是為了贏得別人的叫好，好讓你自我膨脹地覺得自己是多么友善，而是當(dāng)你知道送禮物所花費(fèi)的時(shí)間和心意能夠得到朋友的肯定時(shí)，你會(huì)感到欣慰。有些時(shí)候，我在收到禮物后忘記寫信去道謝，此時(shí)我會(huì)覺得自己是個(gè)大混蛋，內(nèi)心充滿自責(zé)，卻因懶惰而作罷。我并不以道謝方面的這些過失為榮，因?yàn)槲覂?nèi)心傳統(tǒng)的那一部分認(rèn)為道謝才是有教養(yǎng)的表現(xiàn)。我也曾通過電子郵件和短信向別人道謝，只是因?yàn)檫@樣能很快讓對(duì)方知道他們寄來的禮物令我感到興奮，但我心里對(duì)數(shù)字時(shí)代帶來的這種即時(shí)滿足還是有所抵觸，原因很簡(jiǎn)單：它不像書信那么有人情味。

去年，當(dāng)我第一次住進(jìn)屬于自己的房子時(shí)，家人和朋友們從全國(guó)各地寄來的祝賀喬遷的信塞滿了我的信箱。我不知道自己之前為什么從來沒有想到過在別人購(gòu)置新居時(shí)寄去一張賀卡，但將來我肯定會(huì)這么做的！這些信對(duì)我人生中的重要一步表示祝賀，其中閃耀的善意和關(guān)愛令我感動(dòng)不已。

我保存著所有的卡片，因?yàn)槲蚁胗涀∧切r(shí)間，記住這一路上家人和朋友一直充滿鼓勵(lì)地在我左右陪伴，即使不能陪在我身邊，也不忘把他們的愛郵寄過來。收到一條祝賀的短信也不錯(cuò)，但我無(wú)法在五年之后把它從抽屜中抽出來，然后回想起當(dāng)初收到它時(shí)的喜悅，臉上泛起微笑。

盡可以叫我多愁善感的傻瓜，可是我擔(dān)心寫信這門藝術(shù)會(huì)徹底失傳，消失在未來的二進(jìn)制編碼中。很多學(xué)校都不再教學(xué)生寫連體字，孩子們則從嬰兒時(shí)期就玩著iPad和電腦長(zhǎng)大。見鬼，就連我的貓都喜歡偶爾玩一玩iPad上的游戲。但某種美好的事物正在消失。我能通過信封上的字跡辨認(rèn)出信是誰(shuí)寫的。字跡是我們身份的一部分，可是在數(shù)字時(shí)代，我們已經(jīng)幾乎不怎么需要它了，而這讓信顯得愈發(fā)特別和有人情味。

我希望美國(guó)郵政服務(wù)公司能夠堅(jiān)持下去，這樣在未來的很多年里人們?nèi)匀豢梢允瞻l(fā)信件。我也希望能有更多的人受到鼓舞，重拾親筆寫信這種沒落的交流方式。有太多的理由讓你給自己在乎的人寫一封信，哪怕只是因?yàn)槟阒肋@可以為他們的臉上帶來一抹寶貴的笑容。

1.flutter [?fl?t?（r）] vi. 奔忙；忙亂；坐立不安

2.penmanship [?penm?n??p] n. 書法，字跡

3.ordeal [??（r）?di?l] n. 煎熬，折磨

4.relegate [?rel?ɡe?t] vt. 把……歸入某類

5.grace [ɡre?s] vt. 美化，裝飾

6.NPR：美國(guó)國(guó)家公共電臺(tái)（National Public Radio的簡(jiǎn)稱）

7.bummer [?b?m?（r）] n. 令人不快的事，令人失望的事

8.ovation [???ve??（?）n] n. 熱烈鼓掌，歡呼

9.lapse [l?ps] n. 過失，小錯(cuò)

10.binary [?ba?n?ri] adj. [數(shù)]二進(jìn)制的

11.cursive [?k??（r）s?v] adj. 草寫的，手寫體的

12.resurrect [?rez??rekt] vt. 復(fù)興

13.if only to：即使僅僅因?yàn)?/p>