Postal Cookies

I have taken a break from blogging for the past month or so. This is mostly due to the fact that I have been extensively decorating our house for Christmas, and I want my family to be surprised when Steve and I host this year, so I'm refusing to post pictures. My mother protested, so I am relenting with one picture.

Steve was kind enough to help me (and by "help," I mean do everything while I watch) bake cookies for my friends at the post office.

That may sound a little odd, but I go to the post office a lot. Pretty much every week, sometimes more than once. The postal service introduced a rule many years ago requiring any piece of mail over 13 oz to be either processed through the automated postal center (or online) or taken up the counter. My boss being a bit of a luddite, he has me take things up to the counter.

So, for the past eight years, I have gone into the same small post office nearly every week. Though all of the clerks know me, I have struck up an especially friendly rapport with one in particular, who (in an "it's a small world" twist) is originally from Long Beach. He greets me with an enthusiastic grin and usually "yo, girl!" and we chat about various things while he processes my mail.

Today I delivered a plate of cookies (regular chocolate chip and double chocolate) with a tag reading "To: My friends at the post office." I was thanked repeatedly, told how wonderful I am, etc. I left feeling somewhat embarrassed in a really wonderful way. And I really can't think of anything that more perfectly encapsulates what the Christmas season is all about than the warm (slightly self-conscious) feeling that results when a kind gesture one makes is very much appreciated.