Changes

As I was cleaning out a closet the other day, I came across a box full of notes I'd saved from high school. Don't ask why I saved them - I really don't know, other than I tend to be a packrat... 

As I sat on my bedroom floor reminiscing and happily attempting to decipher the handwriting of my high school friends, it struck me; neither of my children have experienced the simple joy of finding a page-long, hand-written note in their locker. Nor have they ever been quickly handed a note in the hallway while they rush to class. Of course they don't write notes any more - kids text. Even in our little school with only 30 high school students, who are always together - they text, or use Snapchat. 

Writing a note took time - it took commitment and you didn't do it for just anyone. A page-long, hand-written note only went to someone who mattered to you; maybe that's why I saved them. It makes me wonder if any of the notes I wrote back in high school are in the back of someone else's closet. 

As silly as it sounds, I'm really glad I didn't grow up with a smart phone in my pocket.