We have all been asked the question, "What would you save in a fire?" It probably came up at dinner, or as an ice breaker at school or summer camp. But whenever it appears in conversation, we never really think about it; we don’t think about our precious objects disappearing and possibly never seeing them again. It makes us sad, so we don’t think about it. Yet in reality, some people have been forced to face this situation. Freak accidents happen, or homes are intentionally burned down for unknown reasons. People never know what is going to happen in the future.

So, I am going to do some planning. If tragedy were to strike my family and I in the form of a fire burning down our home, I would grab one object. I will not mention my family or any of my animals. Of course, I would save them before anything else because they are a deeply apart of my life and I would not know what to do without them. However, they are not objects, and I will not try to force they enormous personalities inside the tiny little box of objects.

The one thing I would save if my house were to catch fire would be my box of letters. I have kept all of the letters I have received over the last eight years in a wooden box. It’s just a plain box, light wood with brass hinges. I plan to paint it one day and make it all cool-looking, but that day has yet to come. It is what is inside that is important. These letters consist of birthday cards, get well soon notes, see you soon postcards, or updates on what is going on in a friend’s life. Some are letters are short—half a page to a page long—while other letters cover the whole card, including the back, and then some left over papers stuffed between it.

Sometimes I go and open the box, taking all of the letters out in one full swoop. I lightly touch the front of the cards. I feel the glossy surface, the roughness of glitter, the softness of fluffy decorations, or the slightly dented feel of regular paper. Some of cards have images of different things; they are all entertaining none the less, and some are animated, are real, or are illustrations. Some cards have inspirational quotes on the front, either in fancy writing or a simple print. Depending on the material used, the letter could have some weight to it, or could possibly have the lightness of a feather. I like the feel of them in my hands. I’m not really sure why, but I just do.

I live through different memories when I read what is inside these letters. A lot of the earliest ones I don’t remember the context, but the ones within the last two to three years I can remember. Sometimes I’m surrounded by friends and family at a party, other times I have a fever in bed, and sometimes I am at the post office ripping open the letter from a friend who has been traveling all summer. It’s an experience, opening these letters.

I think my favorite part of rereading letters is seeing the handwriting. You can really tell a lot about what a person is feeling when you look at such a thing. Some of the letters are written in cursive, others written in plain print, and still others spice it up a bit with hearts, stars, or swirls making the dot on the letter ‘i.’ Some letters are written neatly up to the end, some start out neatly and then end up messy, and then some are messy all the way through. I like to run my fingers over the handwriting; you can feel how hard the writer pressed the pen down onto the paper by the indents the words make.

I like to read what my friends and family wrote me. The stories they tell are so interesting, and it amazes me at times to hear about the places they have gone. There’s also just something about receiving a handwritten letter out of the blue. It’s comforting to know that someone thought of you and took the time and effort to write down something to tell you. It’s fun. Handwritten letters are personal, and it’s nice to know that someone cares.

These are the reasons why I would save the box of letters in a fire. There are hundreds of memories within these simple things. These letters are personal, and it’s nice to know that someone makes the effort to communicate. I can always buy another phone, another toy, and more clothes. I could always buy more furniture or new house. But I can’t replace something that is handmade. These are the reasons why I will save my wooden box full of letters.

Now the question is, what object would you save in a fire?