The Defaced Envelope From 65 Years Ago

            My sister and I had quite different reactions when we stumbled onto this important envelope containing a pivotal letter written to our parents in 1959. She said, “I can’t believe they let you get away with doing that.” I thought to myself I was such a hyper little one that even though surrounded by four adults – my parents and my maternal grandparents – all day on the farm, they could not keep up with all my activities.

The front of the envelope  adorned by my scribbles.

            As we looked at it, I marveled that we had run onto my first written story. The composition required I use both sides of the envelope when I crafted my first known manuscript at 2 ¾ years old. If only an adult would have translated my toddler scribbling into English. Based on family lore, without a doubt I could have told anyone the exact meaning of the scrawls that covered the front and back on the envelope.
            

The back of the historical letter's envelope

The letter inside the envelope was a verbal agreement from G.K. “Gib” Morris to accept the offer from my parents to buy the place that my mother still owns. I was forced to agree with Angie, my sister. How did I ever get my little almost-three-year-old hands on that important correspondence?

            One of the first aspects of the envelope that I noticed was the “four-cent postage stamp.” I think, as of this writing, the cost of a first-class stamp has increased to $0.67! Times have changed.
            This letter predated the use of ZIP codes. The telephone number listed within the letter predated the use of area codes. That era reflected a simpler, more personal world.
            The second paragraph appeared a little out-of-step with a real estate deal. Gib Morris, the father of Jr. Morris and grandfather of Patricia Morris Chaffin, Pam Morris Felix, and the late Gilbert Wayne Morris, expressed the importance to him and his wife for desirable neighbors for “the folks” and for the community.

The first two paragraphs of the letter that changed the course of our family.

            Gib’s wife, Thelma, was the only daughter of Mary Clark. She and her husband, Jim, owned the Clark Store “catty-cornered” from the southwest corner of the farm Thelma and Gib were selling. They were the folks that Gib had mentioned in the letter. Thelma and Gib wanted good people as neighbors to their loved ones. The home of Todd and Kelsey Gibson and Lainy is situated on the former location of the Clark Store.
            In the interest of having desirable neighbors for the Clarks and the community, Gib and Thelma did not explore other buyers that would have paid more for the place than my parents did. Gib and Thelma genuinely cared for the well-being of her parents and their neighbors even though they lived in Texas and only came back to the Bend for periodic visits.
            But they did have a reason. Moses recorded it in Deuteronomy 6:5 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. Gib and Thelma loved the Lord. This couple knew that Jesus affirmed this verse in Luke 10. A lawyer asked Jesus how to have eternal life. Jesus in turn asked the lawyer what God’s Law said. The lawyer quoted this same verse from Deuteronomy 6:5 but added and your neighbor as yourself. God had spoke to Moses in Leviticus 19:18 You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.
            These few impressions from a 65-year-old envelope serve as a reminder of valuing people over money or possessions. If we truly have a love relationship with Jesus, then His love will touch the lives of those we live near and encounter in our daily lives. Postage rates have escalated from 65 years ago. Addresses and telephone numbers have become more complicated. But living a life for the Lord because we love Him so much that His love spills into all our other relationships is just as relevant and needed as it was 1959.

Signature of Gib Morris from the letter.
Every time I saw  the name "Gib" or typed it, I
recalled the last time Gilbert Wayne Morris
came and visited with Mother and me at the
 farm. He mentioned that Dad always called
 him Gib instead of Gil. He wondered why. I told
 him, "Maybe because Dad liked your grandpa
and liked to remember him every time he
  called you by his name."