Apparently, the mail carrier’s creed does not apply if you live on a snow-packed dirt road. After receiving more that two feet of snow in a day and a half, our mail delivery was suspended for a few days. Since I didn’t drive on that road myself, I totally understand.
I am on a contract route which means my carrier does not officially work for the post office. She does a fantastic job and often goes out of her way delivering packages that are too big for the mailbox. I have total admiration for her because I am well aware of the crummy roads she has to drive on every day.
The citizens of Bluesky have a wonderful mail carrier named George. This is his encounter with Beth Anne.
Beth Anne pulled back the drapes in the front window and looked out at the porch. It was half past three o’clock and their mailman, George, would be there at any moment. Getting the mail was Beth Anne’s job and she loved it. George let her walk with him to the next few houses. Sometimes he had a funny story to tell her about things that happened on his mail route.
“Hey, there, young lady,” George called out as Beth Anne came through the front door. “Here’s your mail today.”
Beth Anne placed the mail on the table just inside the door and joined George as he pushed his cart down the driveway to the sidewalk. Beth Anne had to quicken her steps to keep pace with George. Every now and then, she would skip along to catch up. She chattered away happily as they walked. “When school starts I’m going to be in fifth grade. I’m going to be in reg’lar class, not in special class. Maybe I’ll be with some of my friends. I do good in school. I’ll be happy when school starts.”
“That’s great, honey,” George said as he walked up to the next house on his route. Beth Anne took the opportunity to rest and catch her breath.
“What’s that?” she asked as George returned to his cart. Beth Anne was pointing at a cardboard heart with an arrow and scribbly writing on it.
“That’s a card Joey gave me to deliver to Melissa,” George said with a grin. “He told me she’s his girlfriend.”
“I know,” Beth Anne giggled. “Melissa is on our Special Olympics swim team. Joey tries to whistle at her, but he can’t really do it right. It sounds like this.” Beth Anne put her lips together and blew air through them, making a loud farting sound.
“We used to call that a Bronx cheer,” George laughed. “I bet it didn’t get the results Joey hoped for.”
“Melissa didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to hurt Joey’s feelings.”
From: The Handy Helpers, Not a Happy Camper.