Time and time again I'm amazed at the emotion that comes out in these typing sessions. Dozens of people have been moved to tears as they recall loved ones in Iraq or something about their family experience that they're moved to share with the president.
Through it all I sit with what has been described as as "Velveeta bland" face, listening attentively and non-judgmentally to person after person.
I'm often asked if I think the president will ever read these cards. It seems highly unlikely given the demands of his office and the volume of mail he receives. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought the president really MUST read these cards.
And so here I am. It's after midnight and the baby is asleep so I'm taking advantage of the quiet night to put these words down. Not on paper this time. But here, with hopes someone out there may help me fulfill my role as courier of these most precious letters.
It seems I am attempting the impossible, a quest a la Don Quixote’s “impossible dream.” But is it precisely Mr. Obama’s path, the one that provoked such deep emotion on election night.
