In today’s quick-paced Western world, hand-written letters are a lost art. Why would anyone write a letter when email…no, wait! That’s just as anachronistic. Texting is more efficient. And, for good measure, be sure to use acronyms AMAP!*

Over a recent weekend as I was going through some old documents searching for Bethlehem Steel correspondence, I found a less ancient recent letter that I had inadvertently filed among them.

The letter is dated March 21, 1995, but was actually completed about two weeks later, as it was written over a space of over ten days. It was from my godmother, known as madrina in Spanish, who wrote me after she had received our 1994 Christmas letter and photo. She lived in the interior of Venezuela and passed away a few years ago; an event which saddened me deeply.

The letter is written over eight pages in beautiful, flowing longhand script. It is thoughtful, funny, sincere, and, most importantly, loving. The letter writer had schooling: three grades. Plus six months’ secretarial school. I mean no offense or disrespect to my fellow college-educated friends but she was more educated — truly educated — than most of us.

Her nephew was one of my best early childhood friends. Whenever I think of him, I think of the classic carousel humming top. He and I would dedicate much time of play spinning that thing. We each had one and “competed”. Not sure on what basis we kept score. But we did.

As a child, I addressed her as “Tía C__L__”. And I addressed her thusly the very last time I visited with her in 2005, when her mind had begun to noticeably fail. She lived another nine years after that, passing away in 2014.

The perceptive reader will note how loving and also how prescient she was. 

Here are some excerpts:

“My dear nephew….

“I pray to the Lord that you are well and in union with your family and I also ask God that He might bless you with good health, peace, and wellbeing in this new year that began not too long ago. Amen…..

I’ll tell you that I received your letter in mid-February and it was stamped in Texas in December, 1994. Almost two months to arrive in my hands. This happens all-too-frequently in our country; mail arrives in Venezuela quickly, but there is far too much neglect….”

“Ricky, my dear son, this aunt of yours would so much like to … and know all that happens in your family. The mischiefs, anecdotes, and the rest of the acts of the “gang’ and in general of every one of you all.”

“I believe my memory is beginning to fail me. I think I’ll have to consult with a doctor to see if he can help me with a given medication. Sometimes I have difficulties maintaining a conversation because I forget a word or two or the name of a person or thing. This worries me and makes me feel bad. But I am fully conscious that this is the work of the ‘almanac’ which promotes havoc as time goes by.”….

“Ah! Lillian, a little birdie told me that, soon, God willing, another baby will arrive. Is it true? If so, may it please the Lord God that all goes well and that a little sister may arrive to accompany Elizabeth… [to Elizabeth’s dismay, it turned out to be another boy, Nathan. But the next birth was indeed a sister, Esther — RMB].”

“The truth, daughter, is that children are a blessing from God and are the joy of life for loving couples. That’s how I see it.”….

“Today, the third of April, I have heard on the noon news that a major embezzlement was discovered in SIDOR [the large steel works operation in Guayana, Venezuela’s interior. Refer to post, Guayana The Reverse Miracle — RMB]. I will be following this event. Our country fell into disgrace ever since the [mining industry was expropriated] during the time that Colombian [his opponents denied he was born in Venezuela — RMB], Carlos Andrés Pérez ruled, and the fanaticism of the political masses re-elected him [twenty years later] so he could finish the job of destruction. Now the people … expect the new administration to perform miracles in little time.”

[She, like many Venezuelans, was very frank in her assessments of all political leaders and parties — RMB]….

“Please forgive me for commenting on all this…. It hurts me that my country, so beautiful and with so much treasure in its soil, a country which should be at the top of the list of the world’s industrialized and developed countries is in such a disastrous condition. How far from today’s conscience are the writings of our Libertador, Simón Bolivar. No one even considers him or hearkens to him…. Unfortunately, in my thinking, none of those who have governed Venezuela have loved her in truth.”

In my godmother you can see and hear “the Spain” in the people of Venezuela — the courtesy, the simple erudition, the warmth, the transparency — and, in her regard for Bolivar, you can also sense “the France”. Finally, in her recognition of the corruption of her country’s leaders — “none … have loved her in truth” — you can see the inchoate recognition that something was wrong and had been wrong for a long time. These thoughts will be developed as we continue posting over the coming months.

I miss you, dear Tía.

*As much as possible.