I remember going to camp as a child, when cellular phones were not commercially available. Several Ma Bell telephones served the entire camp population, yet these were seldom used due to the prohibitive cost of making a long distance call.
Communication was facilitated by postcards. Every several days one was supposed to write home, and part of the camp requirements were to come to camp prepared with a certain amount of prepaid postcards.
I can't describe the joy of being on the receiving end of a letter from home. Going to camp meant that one was virtually cut off from home, and getting news of one's loved ones was soothing balm to many a home-sick child.
Fast forward to the modern era of camping. Camps now have computer rooms whereby campers can stay in touch with their Facebook Friends. Campers have cell phone whereby parents and friends can TXT and call at anytime.
While I appreciate the advances of modern technology, I lament the missing postcards. I lament the nostaglic history that will no longer grace the scrapbooks and albums of the youngsters. I lament the history lost in The New Age of Psak.
And so too, the beautiful letters depicted in the new Artscroll volume above, may not have any modern additions, as letter writing goes the way of the dodo.
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