Our Postmaster, Sonya, lends an ear to everyone in our small town of less than a thousand.  Everyone has to get their mail or buy stamps.

She hears every body’s stories.  She knows who is ill, most people by their first name and even where they live.

She is the local “psychiatrist” although she does not dispense too much advice or any pills.  When someone is dying, she hears about it from the nearby relative.

Sonya lives nearby and given enough time she meets just about every resident unless you are a hermit and never leave your house.  Every person need stamps or eventually has to weigh a package.

The post office is the focal point of this town.  There is the local diner where all the old fogies congregate every morning and share the latest gossip.  The diner (and our supermarket) are only a distant second place to meet locals.

Sonya has the pulse of our small town.  There is very little she does not know about its residents.  She is usually very discreet about the gossip she hears every day.

The postmaster of our small town knows almost everything about almost every body.  She just has to know when to shut up.  Sometimes that is hard for her to do but most of the time she does a good job.  Everyone knows Sonya.