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Sunday, June 22, 2003

What is one of the nicest surprises in this life?

It's getting a personal letter in the mail, one that's immediately recognized as different from the other envelopes resting on the magazines and brochures in the mailbox.

My guess is that most of us feel better about our day when, somewhere within the junk mail, the bills, pleas for contributions and sudden political "best buddies," we see an envelope with our name and address -- handwritten, of course.

I have friends whose handwriting I recognize immediately.

Does my heart leap? Do I smile? Definitely.

But I am always pleased to see an envelope, plain white or in shades of lavender, pink or pale blue, my name written in a variety of penmanship styles.

A personal note is a gift I never tire of receiving.

Modern times mean modern methods, and I think we agree that with e-mail now an option, handwritten notes are rare.

I was made even more aware of this when I visited the Marjie Allon Fine Stationery at 5406 Walnut St., Shadyside, where new owner Carole Davis was hosting Margaret Shepherd.

Stationery is prettier than ever, and there is a wide variety of writing utensils.

Shepherd is known in Boston for her calligraphy that inspired a small book, "The Art of the Handwritten Note" (Broadway Books, $16).

The book is described as "a guide to reclaiming civilized communication."

Civilized -- there's a word we need to cultivate. Writing a personal note is just so civilized. Learning the mechanics of sending a message electronically is not even close.

I have grown to accept that e-mail messages are better than nothing, but deep down I want a letter in my mailbox.

So many niceties have disappeared as we have "progressed" and found ways to make everything easier, from cooking and child-rearing to dressing.

The lovely touches we used to associate with dressing have all but been discarded. The quick, the easy, the least bother. That's what we look for.

Believe me, I do it. I like presifted flour. I like wash-and-wear clothing. I like ready-to-bake dinners. Just cut the cover film, stick it in the oven and you have turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing.

But when it comes to the handwritten note, there should be no shortcut.

The late Fred Rogers, busy as he was, always sent personal, handwritten notes -- and not dictated to a secretary. We can all aspire to his generous spirit, even in this small way.

Shepherd was here for the graduation of her niece, Eleanor Theodora Lewis, from Carnegie Mellon University. She received a Ph.D. and, while at Marjie Allon, Eleanor picked out her graduation gift: stationery imprinted with ladybugs.

Say what you feel, and say it in as few or as many words as you like.

"Many people feel they have to say a lot, and that discourages them," Shepherd explained, "but you can say very little and have a great impact if your sentences are sincere."

When people take time to send me notes, I don't care what kind of paper or writing tool is used. So many people apologize for the paper or the pencil or their handwriting before they get to the message.

Don't spend time apologizing, says Shepherd. Don't start a note or letter with negatives.

Shepherd includes many wonderful do's and don't's in her book, even suggestions for love letters, breaking-up letters, sympathy and thank-you notes and notes for milestones. Her purpose is to show people how to make the handwritten note an art form.

That it can be.

She says, "A handwritten note is like dining by candlelight instead of flicking on the lights; like making a gift instead of ordering a product; like taking a walk instead of driving.

"You can still use the telephone or the Web for the daily chores of staying in touch, but for the words that matter, it's courteous, classy, caring and civilized to pick up a pen."

Ralph Waldo Emerson said: "Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy."

Take pen in hand. I can't imagine anyone not appreciating your taking the time to do that.

With practice, you, too, can learn to light the candles rather than flick on the lights.