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Perfect Thank-You blue gold client thank you

This magic moment

You sort through your mail and find a beautifully addressed envelope.

You notice it right away, of course, because a hand-addressed letter—especially one addressed in pretty calligraphy—is rare these days. Pick it up (go ahead, I’ll wait) and feel the weight of it in your hands. Run your fingers over it and feel the texture of fine ink on the surface of the paper.

You’re thinking: wedding invitation? Party invitation? It’s something special, you know that much.

And inside that envelope, you find a personal greeting. A thank-you. A note of appreciation for your business or just to say happy birthday or happy holidays.

How do you think that experience would make you feel? All of it, from the moment you find the envelope to the one when you read those words?*

What would it mean to you that someone took the time to write this note and to put it in the mail so that you could experience this moment of feeling truly appreciated?

Pretty great, yes?

This is what our customers deserve. To know that they matter that much to us, that we value them. And they won’t throw that card away, as they might any other piece of mail that looks like a bill or an ad or a sales letter. They will set it aside and keep it. They will most certainly remember it.

And they’re very likely to tell their friends and their family about it, and maybe even show it to them. That would be great for business, wouldn’t it?

But the referrals and the future sales aren’t the end game, not really. The most important thing (we all know this) is to build and maintain good relationships with the people who trust us with their loyalty and their business.

But that’s not even the whole payoff, either (though it’s very compelling).

To me, it’s that one moment, when a thoughtful gesture floats down and comes to rest in the middle of someone’s day, or at the end of it. When for that moment, his or her attention is tied up the surprise of that note, the thoughtful words, the pretty script, the feel of ink on paper. The permanence of it. The care and good intention behind it. The effect it will continue to have long after that moment passes.

There’s a bit of magic to it. Because it’s rare, because it’s beautiful, because it’s special. Because it took some effort and thought.

Because it creates a thread of connection, or strengthens one that is already there.  And whatever good things happen later, however the business relationship develops, it will be tethered to that good memory.

Pen. Paper. Words. A stamp.

Magic isn’t so hard to pull off, after all.

  • Author:Jennifer
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gold ink on ecru Perfect Thank You

See what's beautiful: why a letter leaves a big impression

Here’s what I love the most about the work I do: I get to be part of your stories.

Years from now, when time has sanded away memories, as it does, you might invite your daughter or or your niece or maybe your grandchildren to open a box filled with your mementos from all the years. Things you kept because they marked a moment that meant something to you. A theater ticket, a napkin with ‘I love you’ written on it (only you know who and when and why). A sprig of dried rosemary (‘That’s for remembrance,’ Shakespeare wrote). A bit of ribbon. A boarding pass. A leather-bound journal filled with quotes and sketches.

Your things.

And tucked away among them all, a wedding invitation (what a day it was). Or a menu from that holiday party in 2015, the one where your guests got snowed in and had to camp out at your place overnight (prepare yourself). And there on the age-softened paper in the hands of someone you love, a flourish of script that – while it may be worded any number of ways – says, “This was important. This day was really something.”

And, so, that memory lives on.

That’s why I love what I do. That’s what makes up for the moments when the pen nib catches on paper and splatters ink across what was perfect work so far. That’s what keeps me practicing and experimenting and holding my work to a high standard. To make something beautiful and to pass it on. And on.

Maybe it sounds greedy, and so maybe it is. They’re your stories, not mine. But here’s the thing: I take a lot of joy from knowing that someone halfway across the country will open her mailbox and find something special inside, an envelope that’s not a bill or an advertisement or a letter from the mortgage company. I like imagining that she will hold that envelope with care, that she will stop in the middle of her day to see something beautiful, and that she will know that someone (you) thought enough of her to take the steps that would put that envelope into her hands.

The envelope that I got to decorate in a favorite script. The style with the M that is so fun to write. The one that lets me make the H with the swirl. And then there’s the white ink on a colored envelope and, well, that’s my favorite, too.

And in that moment, your story, her story, and my story are all woven together. Three people connected by one small, lovely, nearly weightless thing.

And suddenly, if you think of it that way, it’s not so small anymore. Now it’s weighted with time and care and love and the social graces that tether us to the best parts of ourselves.

Some time ago, I wrote three words on a piece of paper. “See what’s beautiful.”  Turns out, there’s lots to see, and that simple mantra guides my calligraphy work and makes a path for me through my days. I think of it as a reminder and an invitation. A talisman.

One that I am happy to share with you (that’s how these things work). Carry it with you (it’s portable). Once you get used to the feeling of having it in your pocket, you won’t want to be without it. (It has staying power, this one.)

Make confetti of it, even. Share it. Pass it on. Three words.

See what’s beautiful.

 

  • Author:Jennifer
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