Hi! So glad to see you here.
I want to tell you about the stamp store we visited during a recent getaway to Washington, DC, where we took in a great deal of art museum culture. We also spent an afternoon at Planet Word based on the recommendation of our rabbi and rebbetzin, who told my husband Miro, “Merri will love it.”
Earlier that day, after exploring the National Postal Museum, I popped into the stamp store next to the museum’s gift shop, hoping to pick up some new 2023 USPS Love stamps. I’m a big fan of sending letters the old-school way, just to say I’m thinking of you, enclosing an article clipping or a cartoon. Love stamps make the perfect postage for such occasions.
But this is really a story about words.
I stood behind a woman who was finishing up at the counter. She quickly shuffled her papers to the side when she noticed me. “Let me get out of the way so you can take care of this nice lady,” she said to the clerk.
With a huge smile, I asked, “How do you know I’m nice?”
“I can just tell.”
I purchased two sheets of puppy stamps and a few stamps to mail postcards to Croatia.
“Croatia?” she exclaimed, stuffing the paper pile into her bag. “What’s your connection with Croatia?”
I told her my story. That I’d lived in Zagreb during the Balkan Wars in the early 90s, where I worked with refugees arriving from Sarajevo, and as it happened, met my husband there. Turns out she was in Belgrade at the same time, working for the US State Department. We compared brief notes on our experiences in the region and agreed that coincidences are wonderful things.
The postal clerk and I then had a lovely though very short chat about the puppy stamps and our mutual affection for Mr. Rogers — all this while she put my purchases into an oversized envelope and I swiped my credit card.
Protocol did not demand either of these conversations, and I’ll likely never meet either of these women again. But by acknowledging one another during what would have otherwise been an entirely anonymous retail experience, we made the world seem — however briefly — smaller, warmer, kinder, and so much more interesting.
Yep. Words can do all that.
I delighted in telling Miro about it as we walked to Planet Word. With no more than one foot in the museum door, we turned to one another and laughed. “The rabbi and rebbetzin were right.” Planet Word is a delightfully immersive exploration of words — their origins, magic, beauty, sounds, and power.
It also confirmed what I’d felt as I exited the stamp store — that language offers endless possibilities for genuine connection with others. In sharing our stories, we open ourselves up, providing a window into our individuality, unique experiences, and our particular brand of kindness. After all, words are one of the many expressions of godliness in the world.
This quote from Toni Morrison posted on a museum wall summed it up for me. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.
And speaking of language…
When my sons began studying for their SATs, I subscribed to the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day because I thought it would be a fun way to help them grow their vocabulary while adding fresh sparkle to mine. The word arrives in an email with its definition, backstory, and usage. If you find language interesting, it’s a perfect way to start your morning.
Last Friday, the word of the day was challah. Its appearance while I was pulling out the ingredients to bake ours was wonderful, and I presume, not coincidental on M-W’s behalf. Some folks know challah only as that thick, eggy bread that makes the best French toast. But Merriam-Webster included this in its word of the day Did You Know? feature:
“Challah Comes From Yiddish
When English speakers first borrowed challah from Yiddish, they couldn't quite settle on a single spelling, so the word showed up in several forms; challah and hallah, and the plural forms challot, challoth, challahs, hallot, halloth, and hallahs were all common enough to merit inclusion in Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged when it was released in 1961. Today, challah and the anglicized plural challahs are the variants that are usually encountered by English speakers.”
Kudos to M-W for giving us more than one way to celebrate challah on an Erev Shabbos. Let’s give them a round of ch-ch-ch.
Here’s a treat for folks who love books.
Not edible, but how could I not share this quote posted on another wall at Planet Word?
The Rights of the Reader
1. The right not to read 2. The right to skip 3. The right not to finish a book 4. The right to read it again 5. The right to read anything 6. The right to mistake a book for real life 7. The right to read anywhere 8. The right to dip in 9. The right to read out loud 10. The right to be quiet
From Daniel Pennac, Comme un Roman (translated by Sarah Ardizzone)
Especially #3, which took me several decades of reading to master. Knowing how much heart, sweat, and soul the author poured into writing it, I felt guilty when I wanted to bail early from a book, so I’d plod on. Sometimes, it’s not the book at all; it’s the wrong timing. At others, it’s just not the story for me. Now I embrace that, closing the cover gently, telling it Sorry before moving onto something else.
But ah, #6. That resonates deep in my soul.
Also, shouldn’t someone put Pennac’s list on a bookmark?
It’s great to have you here.
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Thanks, as always, for reading.
Love,
Merri
The late Swedish writer Henning Mankell once wrote "'You can have close friends among the dead, among the living and among the fictitious.''