A letter to Grandpa.

While the POstables are organizing a surprise birthday party for Eleanor at the Mailbox Grill, Shane McInerney finds a letter addressed to Grandpa. The characters belong to the talented Martha Williamson.

To Grandpa

With my best memories.

"Wow! What an incredible day. Are we all going to the Mailbox Grill ?" Shane asked.

"Yeah, Eleanor's expecting us at 7:00 p.m. Oh, no, I forgot ! I just have to go shopping for wrapping paper." Rita exclaimed.

"Yes, I'll go with you, Rita. Eleanor is celebrating 32 years of service at the post office. And we've always been her favorites employees. Rita, let's go." Norman said, as he put on his coat.

"Wait, Rita, where's that box supposed to go? Does it contain anything that needs to be sorted urgently?" Shane asked.

"No, I don't know. Just put it on Oliver's desk. See you later!" Rita exclaimed before leaving.

Shane frowned slightly and took the box. As she put the box on the desk, an envelope fell on the floor.

She picked up the envelope. There was no return address, no postmark and no sender address. It only said: For Grandpa.

Shane thought for a moment. This envelope reminded her very much of the envelope she had written to God. She was very curious about what was in the letter. She was still thinking when Oliver joined the DLO.

"Ah, Miss McInerney. Everything's ready at the Mailbox Grill. Where's Norman and Rita?" The postal detective asked

"They went to buy some last-minute wrapping paper... Oliver, I think we have to treat a dead letter." Shane said, handing him the envelope.

Oliver took the letter.

"Indeed, Miss McInerney. It's a dead letter, written years ago, by a little boy about ten years old. But unfortunately, we can't deliver it." Oliver replied.

"That's too bad. A little boy won't get an answer to his letter. And you have this letter for a long time?" Shane asked.

"Well, yes, it still belongs to the..." Oliver began.

"May I read it?" Shane asked.

Oliver nodded and handed her the envelope. Shane opened it to read the letter.

Dear Grandpa.

I'll never forget your smile.

Every time you came home, you brought me something.

I wish I could have spent a lot more time with you.

When we came for the holidays, you often sat on a chair under the porch of the house, as if you were still waiting for us.

You were always there.

Today, you're not here anymore, but in my heart, you're still here.

Oliver O'Toole.

"Oliver, so that child who wrote that letter. Was it you?" Shane asked, surprised.

"Yes, I loved my grandfather very much, Miss McInerney. I wrote that letter, so that I wouldn't forget, so that I could keep hoping. You can send a message by mail, but also in thought or prayer. My grandfather is gone so suddenly. Everybody was crying. I was so sad and scared. I ran out of the house and ran to the lake. Today, I still sometimes think about him and..." Oliver began as tears ran down his face.

"Oliver, I'm sure your grandfather loves you very much. Today, he can be very proud of you, of the person you've become. A loving, kind, understanding, devoted, charming, loyal gentleman with fine values, and who loves his family above all else... Oliver, you can cry, if it helps you." Shane said wiping away the tears from his face.

"You must think I'm too sensitive." Oliver remarked.

"No, Oliver. I think that's a very beautiful quality," Shane said with a smile.

"Life is a precious gift. That's why what is gentle and beautiful and joyful is worth fighting to preserve." Oliver said.

"I think I've heard that phrase somewhere before." Norman said with a smile as he entered in the office with Rita.

"Come on, let's go. Eleanor will be here soon !" Rita exclaimed.

"Yes, you're right!" Oliver exclaimed.

"Oliver, here. I think I have the answer to your letter." Shane said with a smile, handing Oliver an envelope, as she left the office with Rita and Norman.

Alone, Oliver took a deep breath and opened the envelope to read the letter.

Oliver,

You're a fantastic person.

Keep praying and keep hoping.

Life goes on and so does yours.

Shane McInerney.

Oliver smiled, and put the envelope next to his grandfather's pen in the left pocket of his suit, close to his heart.

The end.

Author's note: This story was not planned, but circumstances made me want to write this story. It will probably be the last one I will write for now. I hope write soon again. Thank you all and for reading :).