The Owl in the Mailbox


Does the energy of a book travel with it? Does the energy of the characters, or the energy of the author? Does a book have energy surrounding it at all?  What is your guess? Will we ever know?

The following is a story of a dear old friend and her experiences with a particular memory, place and book:


It was early morning and Marianne was preparing for a busy day in her interior design career in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  She had a design consultation with one client scheduled for the day and would head back to her office to pay some much-needed attention to her desk after the appointment.  It was Monday and she felt ready for her week; her client was in the south part of the city in the late morning, which would give her a solid afternoon to hit the office.

Breakfast went down easily; with her briefcase in hand, she climbed into her Audi to hit the road.  There wasn’t much traffic that morning, to her pleasant surprise.  Coasting down 19th Street, Marianne’s mind went to Cameron Lawn, an old estate that she was passing.  It had once been the homestead of John Cameron, Secretary of State during Lincoln’s Presidency.  Years back, when she was a girl, Marianne and I played on those acres – where I had lived.

It was a wonderful place owned by the state.  The somewhat dismantled mansion divided into four apartments, each as large as a single house.  There were other houses on the property as well, each a bit worn. They had been the servants’ quarters. Old carriages of that time were stored safely in the carriage house – carriages that today are seen in the state museum.  As children, we’d sit in those now old, dusty and very quaint vehicles, imagining the statesmen and their ladies going from place to place.   We would climb the beautiful, big, old trees, ride our bikes and plan get-togethers with our other friends.  One day we even got out paint brushes to paint my clothes closet (a divine hunter’s green) with permission of my mother, whom Marianne loved.  Remembering the fun times and experiences entertained Marianne all the way to her client’s home. She smiled, knowing I cherished those years as much as she did.

On her drive back home at the end of her work day, Marianne again returned to the memories and was compelled to drive the winding lane leading up to the manor, just to see if anything looked the same.  But her stomach growled and the desktop nudged; she discarded the idea and headed straight home instead.  She was amazed, though, at the persistence of the old mind pictures of our friendship and fun.  She smiled and continued to enjoy her “windshield dialogue’ of a day gone by when we were junior high buddies.

Marianne and her husband now make their home across the Susquehanna in Lemoyne, Pa. The route home took her across the river, where luckily she still had brief glimpses of the property between patches of trees; the ground extended to the banks of the river.  As she drove, the rolling acreage persisted in reaching out to her.

Turning into her drive, she made a quick stop at the mailbox, as was her habit. To her surprise, she encountered a large white envelope – an envelope from me!  “What has that girl sent me now,” she thought?

Of course, it was my book, MESSAGES.  She was floored for she didn’t know of its release.  She ran into the house, put the book down by her reading chair, made herself a sandwich, and sat down to read.  Randomly opening the book, she turned to page 73, where she encountered a story about my mother.  They had shared the same birthday, March 28th. Her eyes fell precisely there – right on the date.  She was really stunned now.

Her thoughts went back to her morning and the constant presence of our energy – of our friendship. What had precipitated it all? Was it the location of her client near our old stomping ground? Was it the energy of the book sitting in the mailbox, coupled with our history?  Was it one of those moments where you think of someone just before they call?  All I know is that when Marianne called me, she was on fire from the whole experience. And that certainly lit my fire!

I challenge you to look for and follow the messages you perceive in life; you never know where they may lead. Would Marianne have discovered something unique if she had ventured down the lane, or simply extended her nostalgic trip? Follow your instincts and pay attention to what you see. It is certainly a challenge in today’s world of deadlines and white noise, but Marianne was changed by her experience, and I bet you will be by yours as well!

Do you have any particular places that draw these types of memories and experiences? Have you ever felt pulled to something from your past? Share your stories – your MESSAGES!

Denny Daikeler

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