About two weeks ago one of the Christmas cards I sent out in December 7th was returned to me with a yellow sticker that said "address unknown" (yet no post office stamp). Obviously some postal worker found my beautifully addressed card under a box or machine and just sent it back to me in a CYA move. I was pissed. It was for The Man's MOST important customer. Our business guardian angel.
But once I read this story I didn't feel so bad...
"A British soldier's postcard to his sweetheart has finally arrived - 92 years after he sent it from the trenches of World War I.
Pvt. Walter Butler wrote to Amy Hicks in 1915 telling her he was alive and well - but the army issued postcard never made it to her home in Wiltshire, 60 miles west of London. Butler survived the war, and the couple went on to marry.
The postcard turned up in a postal sorting office, which sent it along last week to the post office near Hicks' address. A local postman called the home of the couple's daughter, Joyce Hulbert, to announce the discovery.
Hulbert, 86, a grandmother of three, said her late parents rarely discussed the war, and that the relic of the past had little meaning for her. She wondered what the fuss was all about.
"I think it's rather excessive," Hulbert told The Associated Press. "There's lots more interesting things going on than a postcard arriving 92 years late." (source)
Okay, now was it just me or did you want to slap the daughter after reading that? How cool would that be to have --especially after your parents had passed away...?