"Let me hear from thee by letters." — William Shakespeare, c. 1590

One small thing that brings me a great deal of joy is receiving a letter in the mail. And I'd wager that I'm not alone in that.

Amid all of the junk mail, bills, and remnants of our paper-bound society, it's remarkable how an envelope, some ink, and a specialty sticker can affect us so deeply.

Do you remember ever having a pen pal? It's a dated concept now, but as a child of a certain era, I recall having a regular correspondence with some faceless kid from another state, wondering when his half of our exchange would arrive and what he'd share of his life with me.

I also remember receiving letters from my grandparents, great-grandparents, and when I was away, my own parents.

Unlike phone calls, which were filled with distractions on both ends of the line, a letter was a concentrated bit of love and attention — a powerful pouring out of the writer's thoughts and feelings, a narrative of their choosing that gave the recipient a view into their world.

I've had opportunities to handle old and rare letters from authors, historic figures, and celebrities. One day, in the Ford Motor Company archives, Dean Weber, the former corporate archivist, showed me three resignation letters side-by-side: Henry Ford's in 1945, as he ceded control of the company to his grandson; Robert McNamara's in 1960, as he left the presidency of Ford to become Secretary of Defense under President Kennedy; and Richard Nixon's terse note upon leaving office in 1974.

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