How its life has changed over the years.
It remains the receptacle into which dedicated walkers and heavy-bag carriers tuck correspondence. However, the nature of its contents has morphed from a fine mix of delightfully anticipated cards and letters, and not-so-thrilling utility bills to the current packs of unrequested marketing flyers and a weekly community newspaper.
As email and online banking and bill paying has become the norm, my mailbox has changed into a barely noticed, temporary holder of pizza, roofing, pho, siding, real estate, tree-trimming, IKEA, and McDonalds ads. Occasionally the car dealership or vet's office reminds me to bring in a beast for maintenance. But usually, the beautifully graphic-designed bits of junk mail rest for a few hours in the bottom of this metal box before being deposited into the paper recycling bin which is shuffled to the curb each Friday.
When a book, cd, or other small packet from an online order arrives, the box takes on the nature of a Christmas stocking. And on those very rare and special occasions when a friend or family member pops a card or note into snail mail, and familiar hand-writing peeks above the bold, fancy typeset of the advertisements, my gratitude abounds for the rusty metal box that protects and cradles their thoughtful words. And I am reminded that, although its role has changed, the small mailbox next to our front door remains a valuable place of honour, if not everyday, then at least a few times each year.
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