So do you remember the “good old days” when we had penny post cards and a first class stamp was three cents, and that meant that a letter with a three-cent stamp could go anywhere ... even to Connecticut! And Mama was quick to point out, “Why do you have to send a letter? A postal card would be just as good since you’re not putting anything inside.” And no one spoke of privacy when it meant saving two cents.

And, of course, one of the big events of the day was going downstairs to check the mail and to see if anyone had written to us. Usually there was nothing except some large envelope for Papa, an envelope with a threecent stamp naturally

And now there’s today! We still wait eagerly for the postman to arrive and stuff the mailbox with all sorts of letters and cards and we begin to sort out all the letters. First there is the never-ending stack of bills and that will be put in a special place for later.

Then there is a huge number of letters with special requests. At one time, we anticipated these requests for donations before holidays. So that in December when the Christmas Season rolled along or even in September before the Jewish Holy Days there were letters asking for donations to help some group. But now the calendar holds up no such red flags. There is always Thanksgiving and Halloween and Columbus Day and Presidents Day and Election Day and ...There is no month without a special day, religious or secular. (Although I have to admit that the month when Ramadan is celebrated has not yet found its way to my mail box.)

And so each day brings an influx of letters making all sorts of pleas (not quite demands) to help with some charity and to reach out through our checkbook to those in need. And yes, credit cards are welcome. And something new has been added to the plea. Often there are a few coins, like three pennies (was that in memory of the first class stamp of by-gone days?) placed in the envelope, or there are name labels with my name and address (sometimes not with an accurate spelling), or even a check for a dollar telling me I could cash it and return the money buffered with my own contribution. And I have even received a pair of socks, a napkin, a pair of child’s panties (I hope they were for a child because it didn’t look like something I would wear. And in pink!!!) and also many times there are religious items, and the charities are very equal opportunity so I receive a Star of David or a Rosary or an American Indian necklace.

And the requests! I read of children who are going hungry in some little village across the seas and it is up to me to help. Or there is the blind child in need of medical help in line behind the poor lad suffering with palsy who stands next to the woman with multiple sclerosis or worse. And they cannot pay their medical bills. So enclosed is an envelope and so a stamp is necessary if mailed in the United States. (Even Connecticut??)

I have to make decisions. Who comes first? The disabled? The poor? The ill? The organizations out to help the indigent? Those doing research to help find a cure for you know what. The schools that provide scholarships? And what about that poor teenager in a country whose name I cannot pronounce who is bereft of family and lacks a lap top computer! (How did that get sent?)

So I have to decide and take out the checkbook knowing that there will be some who will benefit and others who might well go without and that I will have to be pained with the pangs of guilt, but I know that this comes with the religious territory into which I was born.

I am afraid that the little guy far away will have to manage without the laptop for a bit. And then another letter catches my eye. Someone would like to buy some books at the neighborhood bookstore, just in case I might be interested. But that is a letter I do not discard because it comes from my 10- year-old grandson who will soon be celebrating a birthday. So I rush to get a gift certificate and place it with an appropriate card and seal the letter. But this time it is not with a three-cent stamp because it will go way out to California and that’s even further than Connecticut.