Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

I watched 33 Postcards on a recent flight.

The film is about Mei Mei, a Chinese orphan, who has been supported by donations from her Australian sponsor who sends her postcards that describe his family life for many years.

It’s not a movie I’d watch again. The initial plot was good but the story could have been written better. I was hooked, however, because it was a timely movie for me.

I got teary-eyed in many scenes because I know how it feels like to receive letters from a sponsor – pictures of their interesting life and stories from their faraway land. Since I was a little girl, I had been a recipient of hundreds of photos, cards and letters from this loving couple.

Their story is about an ordinary husband and wife who had no biological child so they sponsored a son from the Philippines. My mother was a friend to this child’s mom. This unselfish couple embraced both families like their own. More than that, like a spring of water, their kindness flowed to everybody related to these two families.

I am but one of the many beneficiaries of their extraordinary love.

Through the years, I have received way more than 33 postcards from them, all signed with big hugs and kisses and looking forward to see you.

A few days ago, my family read what seemed to be the final letter. This time signed together with big hugs and kisses were words of farewell and take care of each other.

My heart broke.

I grew up with these snail mails arriving from Belgium and today I cry for I know I will forever look at envelopes, stamps and parcels with a sense of loss and longing. But I also rejoice and am thankful for the life of the man who gave a beautiful meaning to postcards and letters in my life.

Dear Uncle Luc, do not worry, we have auntie Elisabeth’s address and the letters will continue to be sent. Know that we love you more than all the stamps in the world. Farewell. Big hugs and kisses, Violet.

Thanks be to God, not–only for ‘rivers of endless joys above, but for ‘rills of comfort here below. – Adoniram Judson