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We put up the Christmas tree a few days ago and I've been enjoying sitting, watching the twinkling lights. Part of me wishes we could have the Christmas tree up all year, but then I suppose it would no longer seem special. Today I sat in silence, chair turned toward the tree and did some letter writing. I only finished half my intended writing, but that means I have something to look forward to tomorrow. Somehow, sitting by the tree, pen and paper in hand, made me feel that the recipient of my letter was close by and we were enjoying a conversation. It was a warm moment and I'm glad to have the quiet time to cultivate a friendship in this way. I have three new pen friends and a fourth who promised to write. I feel as though they are presents. Certainly, sitting by the Christmas tree writing to them is.
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Letter Matters
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