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Several months ago, I wrote about the letter I sent to my childhood pen pal in Ireland. Her name is Colleen. I addressed the envelope strictly from memory and wished it Godspeed.

Read about it here. (I didn’t send my blog post letter, in case there is confusion)

When I nervously wrote the more formal letter of inquiry, I included my email address. It was a definate leap of faith to send a letter across the ocean to an address culled from my increasingly fuzzy brain. I had all sorts of irrational worries regarding this letter. I just wanted Colleen to be healthy and happy, even if I never heard from her again.

About a month after sending the letter, I got an email from Colleen. The letter found her, forwarded by her mother who still lives in the same home. I consider it a small miracle.

We’ve become re-acquainted through emails. I recently received a Christmas card from Colleen, her husband, and her beautiful little son. She included a few photos. There she was, with the vibrant smile I always remembered, looking healthy and happy.

I am so glad I flung my worries to the side for a few minutes that day at the post office.

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