Tis the Season for Giving.... Grace to the USPS

The texting would work. I was sure of it.

Did I want to turn on text notifications for the orders I’d sent out that had yet to be acknowledged by USPS? No I did not. I did not care to receive the countless notifications updating me on the status of my packages: We have it! We moved it! We moved it to another place! We may deliver it today! Oop, nope, not today, maybe tomorrow! But I was grasping at straws, and this was a worst case scenario.

Last week, I had put 11 time sensitive orders in the hands of the USPS tracking system. These were Christmas postage stamps that people wanted to use on their cards, or ornaments to hang on their trees, or gifts for loved ones. Over a span of 5 days the number continued to grow, but they weren’t being checked in. They were in an abyss, a dark void that existed between my home and the regional processing facility. I imagined a pile of packages a mile high, something from a cartoon, with my small turquoise packages buried like needles in a haystack. I couldn’t find them if I wanted to.

A customer messaged me, “Can you update me on the status of my order?”

“It’s in God’s hands,” I said aloud.

What she read in my response was a stream of drivel about how swamped USPS was, how they didn’t see this coming, how Covid is having an impact. While I typed with one hand, the other was balled into a shaking fist: Hey, USPS! You knew this would happen! How could you not have been more prepared!

The truth is, this happens every year. But 2020 is not every year. 2020 is a Dumpster Fire. In addition to staff shortages because of Covid, the system is also still reeling from the sudden and drastic changes made by the new Postmaster General Louis DeJoy. Not to mention all the extra packages being mailed to family we won’t see, or the extra presents we’re ordering online because we’re all still avoiding stores.

My mail carrier, who usually comes at the dark winter hour of 6 o’clock, is now coming at 8 o’clock, too late for my kids to open our christmas cards because they’ve been asleep for an hour. I caught her as she raced through our neighborhood last night. Usually one to chat, she waved as she looked behind her shoulder, shouting “just trying to finish up and go home!”

It’s a lot easier for me to say this now that my 11 packages have been delivered, but it’s time we all gave USPS a little grace. They’re doing their best.

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While meditating on all of this, my son shoved a miniature red mailbox in my face. “Mail’s Here!” he shouted. He showed me how the tiny letters went in the slot then opened the little door to take them out again. “It’s for you!” he exclaimed.

This was part of a LEGO set, a gift from our new babysitter who has only come over a handful of times. I was caught off guard by the generosity of this college student, who took the time to go to Target and pick out small, thoughtful gifts and wrap them. It was touching. That kind of surprising generosity is something I hope to emulate. No, I need to emulate. It is the season for giving, after all. The first recipient is going to be the postal system.