Need a break from the gloom and doom of the current news cycle? If you’ll pause the cat videos you’ve been distracting yourself with, I’ve got a heartwarming story to share.
When I was nine years old and growing up in Dunedin, New Zealand, an international pen pal program connected me with a fellow nine-year-old in Chicago named Lisa. Even though our handwritten letters took two or three weeks to cross hemispheres and international date lines, we became dedicated pen pals. We shared stories about our families, our pets, our hobbies, our friends. We sent each other photos, capturing our goofy grins when we lost teeth in the 70s and my oversized glasses and her oversized hair in the 80s. Eventually, in our early teens, Lisa and I lost touch.
Fast forward to a sunny Sunday in Marin County, California, just 30 years later. I was reading an article about pen pals who’d met in person after exchanging letters for 55 years. Naturally, I thought about Lisa. Truth is, I’d thought about Lisa many times over the years, and I’d even Googled her name to track her down. But I could never quite remember how to spell her last name. Did it have one “t” and two “rs” or two “ts” and one “r”? Was the “i” before or after the “t”? My spell-and-search on Google had been unsuccessful, and I’d given up.
Twenty-four hours after reading the pen pal article, I received a message on LinkedIn:
Is this the Willow Older who grew up in New Zealand? This is your pen pal, Lisa.
I was gobsmacked.
Turns out Lisa had read the same article in her local paper. She’d searched for me—and found me in five seconds flat. And suddenly, after an interim of three decades, Lisa and I became pen pals once again. This time, our handwritten letters were emails, plus the occasional postcard we both felt compelled to send, no doubt because our friendship really was born of pen and paper.
A few months into our written reunion, Lisa extended her business trip to San Francisco so we could meet in person for the first time in our lives. As I watched Lisa and her fiancée walk up to my front door that morning, the smile on her face was as big as the smile on mine. Weird as it may seem, Lisa and I both knew with absolute certainty that, even though we hadn’t communicated since we were teenagers, we’d adore each other. And you know what? We did. And we still do.
Here’s something else amazing. When Lisa discovered I’m an ordained Universal Life Church minister, she asked if I’d perform her wedding ceremony. Of course, I told her. Then, I asked her about the wedding date. Once again, I was gobsmacked: I’d be performing the ceremony on August 21st.
My wedding anniversary.
So, there you go. One sweet little story amidst the grim news cycle.
If it’s not enough to make you smile, just hit “play” on that hilarious cat video.
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