July 16, 2011
by Jennifer Graham
...For the past two summers, we've spent a week at Wrightsville Beach, N.C. Wrightsville is a four-mile stretch of beach island, just east of Wilmington. The community of 3,000 or so also includes an interior island called Harbor Island and pockets of commercial properties on the mainland.
For me, it's the perfect balance of activity to toes-in-the-sand relaxation. There are ample restaurants and shopping, museums and miniature golf, but the crowds are minimal and the traffic flows smoothly...
During a morning walk to the end of the beach -- a walk I've taken at least a dozen times -- I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. There were strings of shells hanging off driftwood in the dunes, glass bottles and trinkets atop a foundation of wood. I heard my friend Nene's voice in my head: "It bears investigation."
It was a mystical spot, and for a moment I felt like I was intruding -- and yet there it was, right on this most public beach. As I got closer, I saw that atop the foundation sat a plastic mailbox, the plastic covered in wood strips, and marked ever so clearly, "God's Mailbox."
God's mailbox? When did this get here? I certainly had never noticed it.
I hesitated in opening the box, but felt I had to...
Click here to read the full story and find out what was in the mailbox.
Photo from article.