When I first arrived in Africa I started a journal which, in a short time, fell by the wayside. Instead, letters sent home became a kind of diary because Mother saved and numbered every one that survived the long journey. Twenty years of letters fill a box, waiting for Someday.

Back then, without phones or computers, letters were our only connection to home. I bought stacks of pre-stamped aerogrammes that folded into themselves to make a tidy letter. They remind me of past centuries when letters were folded and made into their own envelopes.

The writing was tedious and so was the waiting. Mail by boat took months, by air a week or two. Sometimes packages and letters did not arrive at their destination.

Receiving letters was a highlight of the week. When the mail bag arrived we spent the rest of the day catching up on news from home and delighting in months old magazines. We welcomed any news to keep us connected, but what Proverbs 25:25 says is so true. “As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.”