"Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words:The above is a post that has been making the Facebook rounds, lately.
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick.
I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.
We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.
Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:
Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away.
Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.
Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love.
It is a sweet and moving story.
If you read it without your eyes getting, at least a little bit, wet...
...then fuck you. You would have to be an unempathetic robot to not get emotional reading it! You probably don't like "A Charlie Brown Christmas" or "The Grinch," either.
Your heart must be two sizes too small.
If that is the case, you probably aren't reading this blog anyway.
So who am I talking to?
Getting back on track...
Here is the part of the story that isn't mentioned. The poster may not know this. You might not, either.
In virtually every city that has a Post Office, (which is all of them) there is a group of USPS employees who volunteer their time and some out-of-pocket funds to read every single letter that is addressed to God (and Santa Claus) and write responses to the most sincere and moving letters.
Those post office employees read these letters and respond to them on their own time, and pay for things like the Fred Rogers book mentioned in the post.
The Blog has talked about the awesome value of the USPS and why it should not be privatized in a post some months ago.
Postage is going up again, in a couple of months. To a whopping 50¢ a letter.
When that happens, right-wing bloviators...
and a comic strip duck...
will pull out their usual anti-post office propaganda.
When that happens, remember this post.
United States postal workers are heroes, in their own small way.
They deserve our support.