Regular readers know I write about collectibles — often those that have value because they're rare.

I've also written about frustrations collectors experience. I get lots of mail about that. Some involve the Postal Service. Of course, I can't pick on them alone. I've had bad times at post offices just as I have at license bureaus, gas stations and restaurants. But I'm a believer in what my fellow columnist Bill McClellan calls the Church of the Second Chance. For instance, my mail carrier Derek always brings treats for our dog. Little things like that make up for a lot.

Recently I received an e-mail from a possible fellow parishioner. Admittedly, it's rare. It involves stamps, the Postal Service and a dog. As for its value … you decide. Here's what was sent:

"It seems there is a beautiful soul working in the Dead Letter Office of the post office. Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The next day, my 4 year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed her. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven he would recognize her. I told her I thought we could so she dictated these words:

"'Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith'

"We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith hand addressed to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted extra postage on it because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to Heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letterbox at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter. I told her that I thought he had.

"Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith,' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey and this note:

"'Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. She isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and remember Abbey by.

"Thank you for the beautiful letter, and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you.

"I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. Love, God'"

I can't add much to that. I'd like to think things like that aren't rare. The value speaks for itself.

NOTE TO EDITORS: No visual has been sent with this column.

To find out more about Peter Rexford and to read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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