I love a good story that includes, “so I wrote them a letter.” Snail mail is my favorite kind of communication, shout-out, encouragement, and thank you.
Early on in the school year, our kid made the high school soccer team. Shortly after the invites to play were sent out, can you guess what came next? Right next to the carpool schedule for the extra practices and parent volunteer sign-ups came what sometimes feels like dreaded fundraising requirements. I wasn’t sure how he would even rally that much financial support. But the truth is, high school soccer means no student participation fees and no money from the school district. The program must survive somehow, and fundraising is a necessity for it to thrive.
So in a collective effort, our son’s new team worked on a fundraising project, and each player had their own fundraising goal.
Do you know what happened next?
Our kid met and exceeded his fundraising goal in one week, with special thanks to friends and family who came through for him. It felt really good to have support for him and his team, which helped affirm him in his passion for soccer.
After that fundraiser ended and the season was in full swing, I ordered thank-you cards for his supporters. The expectation was that our boy would send a thank you to those who donated.
The blank notes sat on my desk for several weeks. It’s not always easy to get a teen to sit down and handwrite thank-you notes. He finally did it after the season ended, when practices stopped, daylight dwindled, and, suddenly, there was a little breathing room in the schedule.
As it turned out, it was kind of fun—for me anyway. I sat next to him at the kitchen counter while he wrote his notes.
He would ask, Who was who, and ‘How do we know them again?”
I got to tell him stories about how we knew each other. He sat there, joked around some, and wrote his thank-you note to each of his supporters. “Thank you for supporting my high school team. We had a great season!”
Then I helped address the envelopes, slapped stamps on them, and dropped them in the big blue mailbox for the mail carrier. His letters weren’t extravagant, but they were a simple pause to say “Thanks!” I couldn’t wait for our forever friends and family to receive them.
They say writing a letter is a lost art, but I’m making our boys go find it.
In a high-tech world, it’s a connection on paper. Ordinary thank-you notes can be extraordinary gestures these days, for any reason.
He had a great freshman soccer season, and we are grateful for the experience of high school athletics. We are also grateful for our coaches, teammates, and supporters.
And the letters with his handwriting and signature? Well, those are gratitude lessons for life.
by Emily Roussell 
