The mailbox that once took letters became a home to birds one spring and such a blessing is always welcome. Little miracles are miracles still.
The American style mailbox stands in this British street, sheltered by the spreading branches of a dogwood tree.
The mailbox paint curls like autumn leaves, yet they stay regardless of the wind and rain. It's the beloved old-man of the street, bright in every fog; it's every winter's flower. Jasmine reaches high with white envelopes in tiny hand, Christmas greetings to spread far and wide. She stands on tip-toes as the letter's tumble inside, her face a picture brighter than any card.
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