Hiding outside Sappyfest HQ, steps away from the main tent, there was a rickety table. It was laden with envelopes, cue cards, doilies, pens and charcoal. Above it was a sign reading “Dear Me.”
You could be forgiven for passing by and not noticing it, sitting in a dark corner with so many people passing in front of it. Atop the setup was a jar of elderberry flowers and a framed message:
“Dear you,
Please write a letter and seal it in an envelope addressed to yourself. A toonie for postage, and it will arrive at some unknown date in the future.
Because forever changes.”
I disregarded the message, scrawled some sentences on a doily and addressed the envelope to someone I know.
Jeska Grue, president of Sappyfest, said the table was set up at the suggestion of a friend.
“My dear friend was at a camp and they had a similar concept. She got her letter back three years later and she suggested we do it.”
I told her I addressed it to someone other myself and that I’d stuffed a five dollar bill in the box to help the cause and she expressed surprise.
The concept around the letter box was to provide a means of looking back, sending reminders for the future, advice for oneself, all to be forgotten, then have the memories brought back upon arrival.
“Our plan is to mail them out maybe a few months before the next SappyFest, or a few years from now.”
It’s something you wouldn’t see at festivals other than SappyFest. Anywhere else, no one would trust an unlocked box of change without a guard behind it, let alone come up with the idea for patrons to write notes for the future. It carries the charm and inherent weirdness of SappyFest and Sackville itself.
“If you look back two or three years, there will always be a personal progression, there will always be a change that comes with the passage of time. That’s the idea—‘forever changes.’”
