As I set up my art kiosk at the Greenfield Farmers’ Market on June 27, I had an additional mission. I wanted to honor the late Mary Ellen Preston, a remarkable Greenfield resident who died on June 6. She was a treasured mentor to me as well as an honorary grandmother to many youngsters, including my son. Mary Ellen frequently mailed cards and letters to loved ones, so I created a Free Correspondence Booth in her memory: I rolled out a small rug, on which I placed a card table with chairs. I added a bouquet of flowers, writing materials, and art supplies. I had no idea whether anyone would be interested in using pens and paper in our digital age and was thrilled when participants showed up early and continued in a steady stream, resulting in 30 pieces of correspondence destined for Franklin County locales, neighboring states, the West Coast, Japan, Germany, and the Czech Republic.
People of all ages were thrilled to be offered cards, stationery, envelopes, postage stamps, colored pencils, and other paraphernalia — all free of charge. The booth was situated near a mailbox, and writers could choose to have me pop it in the box for them. One young child had never sent mail to anyone. With a little coaching, he put together a colorful note for his grandma in New Jersey. Another lad worked on a birthday card for his friend Isabella while his older sister wrote to a pen pal.
A group of older teens and twenty-somethings discovered the booth and, within seconds, were all in. When beeswax crayons melted in the midday sun, the young folks used this to their advantage, producing breathtaking pieces awash in colorful swirls and intriguingly smeary shapes. Mobile phones were pulled out on only two occasions, and then only to check postal addresses. Other than that, tech remained out of sight; it felt like an earlier era, or perhaps one we’re evolving toward.
The young folks scribbled, sketched, and shared vignettes about their intended recipients. An older woman asked what this was all about, and when I explained the meaning behind the activity, her eyes filled with tears. I wondered if she, too, had known Mary Ellen? “No,” she replied, “I didn’t know your friend.” She watched the young folks bent over their tasks. One teen reached for a different color pen; another asked how to spell a word. The woman smiled, her expression tinged with sadness. “This gives me an idea,” she said. “How does it work?” I explained the free offerings. She chose a floral card with the message: “Thinking of you.” There were no available seats at the table, so I suggested she find a nearby bench or picnic table. “You could even take it home,” I said. “I’ll still give you a free postage stamp.” She replied, “No, I want to do it right now.” Before heading to a quiet spot, she said, “I should have done this years ago. I hope it’s not too late.”
She returned about 20 minutes later looking shaken, yet somehow more relaxed. “It’s amazing that you’re doing this,” she said. “I’m ready for a stamp.” I offered to walk her envelope over to the mailbox, but she said, “Thank you, no. I need to do this myself.” I watched as she opened the mailbox at the corner of Main Street and Court Square, only to allow it to close without mailing the envelope. Her second attempt led to completion: pulling down the little hinged door, she tossed the envelope in swiftly, as if to prevent more hesitation. One hand went to her mouth. She leaned on the mailbox for a moment, then straightened up with a hand on her upper chest, took a deep breath, gave me a small wave, and disappeared around the corner of Hawks and Reed.
As the young folks wrapped up their lengthy visit, one said, “Thanks for doing this. It’s so…different.” Another added, “I’m going to try this at home. I like it.” Thanks to Mary Ellen’s family and to the farmers’ market manager, Taylor Lopatofsky, for permission to carry out the special project. Most of all, I’m grateful to Mary Ellen Preston for demonstrating, every day of her life, that love and compassion can make a real difference.
Eveline MacDougall lives in Greenfield.