In my mailbox this afternoon, lying atop the usual credit card applications and this week’s JAMA (with some good new reports from the Women’s Health Initiative), there was a plain, regular-sized envelope, wrinkled and stuffed full of something.
The writing was not exactly childlike, but not adultlike either, and listed upward. It simply said “Jonathan” (my first name), our street address (without the “Road”), and a zip code (no city or state). There was no return address, but it was 23 cents postage due. The postmark, though hard to read, appears to be local.
Inside, with no note of explanation, were six small, identical tracts (each the size of a big matchbook) titled “Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled”. Inside are 31 pages of Bible verses clearly aimed at someone having a hard time.
I’m certainly not offended, despite my areligous nature. Nor am I exactly touched. More than anything, I’m puzzled. Who had my street address but not my last name? Why no return address? Why six of the same tract? Should I go to the post office and pay the 23 cents?
Weird.
Dr. J