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On Friday, the first day of this year, I wrote the date, with hardly a hesitation, as I began a thank-you note.
January 1, twenty twenty-one. Month, day, four numerals for the year, I got it right. My pen, of course, from long, long, habit, in seemingly the second-most elongated year of my lifetime, sought to form a zero at the end of the date, but my hand overpowered the pen.
You may wonder: Did I finish the note? Yes, I did! I am pleased to say I did write that note all the way to the end, slightly more than two dozen words in all, and I delivered it to the people who needed thanking.
I wrote just that one note on Friday. On Saturday, like God when He created the world, I rested. But Sunday is here, and I will now pick up my pen again.
Chances are, I owe you a letter or a note. I realize, and I apologize, that I am late. I know it’s hardly an excuse that I have been practicing the date.
♦
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