Melvin's envelope

I pass an old Catholic church on my several-block-long walk from the parking lot to my office. My general posture is that of "look straight ahead, walk quickly, no eye contact with people unless the occasion calls for it."

Once in a while, the old church is open - I'm guessing it's so that people can make a visit to Jesus, or perhaps so that homeless people can take a break from the chilly autumn air.

When I pass by the open church I almost always pause to make a visit. I like to sit in the dark, slightly musty interior of the old church and offer some thoughts/prayers to God for the day, or for things going on personally that I'd prefer not to bring into work.

Within the past few months I've encountered "Melvin" standing by the open door, with his crisp suit, hat and walking stick. Oh, and his sunglasses.

Melvin's an elderly fellow who is somehow associated with the church. We introduced ourselves a few times after we kept meeting when I'd pop in the church before work. He was always really nice and wished me a good day (and I to him, of course) when I'd exit the church.

One morning a few weeks ago he greeted me with a cheery smile and offered me a blank, sealed envelope.


"Open this when you get to where you're going today," he said.

Intrigued, I took it to open at my desk.

On a very large sheet of off-white paper (the kind you'd see in an artist's extra-big sketchpad for pastels and things), written in carefully-formed red marker letters, Melvin's message read:

"Good morning, Elizabeth. 

Today is a wonderful day to be alive. So enjoy your very wonderful day, today.  

                                                                                                    -Melvin." 

So many feels. 

About a week later I saw Melvin again and thanked him heartily for his note.

He explained that he just wanted to share it with me, since so many people pass him by on a daily basis and don't even say hello.

"But you said hello and treated me like a person," he said with his big smile.

I was floored.

I had figured that entering the church, where Melvin stood welcoming people, one would naturally say hello. But then I recalled a few times I saw people pass the church, Melvin said a bright "Good morning" and they ignored him.

We chatted a few more moments and I said I'd have to go into the office now, but to have a good day.

"Oh, it's already a good day!" replied Melvin. "It's a good day because I woke up today! And it's 100 times better now because I saw you!"

Thank you, Mr. Melvin, for making this little corner of the world a better place.