Airmail

When I was in high school, an American teacher in the English club I belonged to introduced me to a pen friend—also called a pen pal, as we used to say.

She was a girl my age living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and we exchanged introductions and photographs.

Simply sending a letter abroad was a new experience for me, and each time I wrote, I agonized over what to say and what topics to write about.

This was back then, of course, so everything was written in cursive (not to boast, but the fifth-generation owner's cursive is quite impressive).

I wonder how many airmail letters I wrote while I was still a student.

Even after I began working, I continued corresponding for a while with the teacher after he returned to America, but before long, the rapid development of internet email and the like meant that I stopped sending letters overseas.

Then, the other day, I received an airmail letter from a customer studying in Germany.

The moment I picked up that envelope from the mailbox, memories of my student days came vividly flooding back.

This is it—this is exactly it!

In those days, airmail envelopes sent from Japan overseas were usually bordered in red and blue, and you wrote the address just as shown in the photograph.

I would seal it, take it to the post office, and say, with a touch of pride, “By airmail, please.”

With greeting cards such as Christmas cards, you were not supposed to seal the envelope, were you?

I still have friends overseas, but since all our communication is by email and social media, I do not actually know their physical addresses.

When I think about it, we can now stay in touch easily and frequently, but it feels as though we have lost some of the charm—and the excitement of waiting for a reply by letter.

But I think I will reply to the customer who sent me this letter by airmail.

With nostalgic feelings and gratitude.