The post office has a mail slot, which is easier for him, but there are boxes around town which we use on occasion. Max kept trying to open the mail flap. It was hard; the handle's close to the top, and it wasn't easy for him to get his finger in there and pull down the heavy metal lid. He looked at me. I got out of the car.
"You want help?" I asked.
Max said yes. So I helped him hold the mail flap open and he put the envelopes in. That's when I noticed a mother and teenage boy standing behind us, waiting.
"Go ahead!" I said.
"Are you sure?" the mom asked.
"Yes!" I said, as Max carefully stepped off the curb and walked to the car to grab the remaining letters.
I stood to the side. The boy tried to put the letter through a seam in the middle of the mailbox.
"No, not there, on top," his mom said.
The boy looked at the lid, his mom motioned to it and he opened it and put the envelope inside.
And that's when it dawned on me.
"It's a good day to be practicing mailing letters!" I said.
"Yes!" the mom said, smiling. Then the two walked off and I stood there, watching them. Of course, I know that Max is hardly the only person in the world who needs practice mailing letters, but it was so heartening to see this other boy doing it, too, with his mom by his side.
I felt like Max had company, and so did I.
"Yes!" the mom said, smiling. Then the two walked off and I stood there, watching them. Of course, I know that Max is hardly the only person in the world who needs practice mailing letters, but it was so heartening to see this other boy doing it, too, with his mom by his side.
I felt like Max had company, and so did I.


