Return to Sender

                             Return to Sender

Sixteen. A young man’s hormones take front and center stage. Heart pounding. I have to meet this beautiful girl. Would she notice me? What would I say? Need help.

It was the summer of 1966. The Free Methodist Church on Main street had the character of a one-room schoolhouse. The pastor was young and spent much of his time working with youth groups. Many of my friends went often because he enjoyed being and working with teens. 

I often rode my bike to the Wednesday night youth meetings. Expecting the usual friends who came, I was distracted by a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed girl sitting across the aisle several pews back. I asked one of my friends, “Who is that beautiful girl?” 

My friend Tom knew. He said, “That’s Lorraine’s cousin.” Lorraine was Tom’s girlfriend. They had been dating for almost two years. If I were to confide in anyone about dating girls, Tom would be the one. So I did.

His knowledge of dating far exceeded mine. I was introverted with no experience. 

 Tom was a good friend and I knew I could count on his help. So, his first advice was to write her a letter including a picture and a little about myself. How would I address her? I don’t even know her name. It doesn’t matter. Tom found her address through his girlfriend. He said, “That’s all you need. Now I’ll help you write some good stuff.”

Good stuff? More like dangerous. The letter was filled with more X’s and O’s than an entire year of “The Dating Game.” Two pages of sweet talk that could have made “Romeo and Juliet” sound like a game of “Jeopardy”. All I had to do was sign my name, address it, put on a stamp and send it. I couldn’t wait for the reply.

Every day I made sure I got to the mailbox before the enemy did. Actually, mom wasn’t that bad. But this was an important letter; a rather private matter. I needed to be the first and only to read the exciting response. 

After two weeks had passed, I started to doubt this girl would ever write back. As always, I went to the mailbox when I saw the mail carrier close the lid. Inside was a  letter addressed to me. My first boy/girl love connection. This was going to be the best day of my life!

I took the envelope to my room so my mother would not get suspicious. I carefully opened it not wanting to cause any rips or tears to the letter. The first thing pulled from the envelope was a picture. Great! She sent me hers! Not so fast. It was my picture I had sent to her. 

That letter was addressed to me, but not written by the girl I addressed it to. This was written by her mother. Oops. An entire page telling how her daughter was much too young to get into a serious relationship with someone she never met. She was courteous but straight-forward. The more I read, the more embarrassed and ridiculous I felt. So much for my friend Tom, and his help. Never again did I trust someone else’s advice in making a love connection. I’ll stay with reading comic books.