Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Maylan Schurch
Friday, July 7, 2023
This past Monday I noticed this large sturdy black trailer parked beside someone’s front lawn a block or two around the corner from where Shelley and I live. I’m deliberately zooming in on this corner of the trailer mainly because of the white painted messages you see, but also because if I’d zoomed out you would have seen handlettering which looks Vietnamese, plus some phone numbers I think should be kept private.
But this was not a “company” trailer. At least it had no logo or business name (unless “United” is the company behind it). It just seems to be a battered old trailer, rented—or maybe loaned—to the household it’s parked beside.
And it seems as though this trailer has generated enough goodwill for someone to clearly hand-letter the tokens of their esteem on the right door. And even after considerable study, I’m not really sure whether I know the flow of the message. “Thanks, United,” the first line says, the phrase hopping over the vertical brace. And the sentence continues below the “United”: “I love you.” The reply, “You too,” is on the left panel, under “Thanks.”
So what’s the message? Someone seems to be thanking an entity named “United,” and then expressing their adoration. “United” may have cordially responded “You too.” But notice that the handprinting is the same. The two “Y’s” are identically formed, as are the two capital “T’s.”
Strange, but heartwarming all the same. This trailer seems to have been the instrument of an overwhelmingly kindly act, and the recipient or recipients have decided to declare their love so that all who pass by can see it.
Here’s another “love declaration,” more than a hundred years old.
The love of God is greater far
than tongue or pen can ever tell;
it goes beyond the highest star,
and reaches to the lowest hell.
The wand’ring child is reconciled
by God’s beloved Son.
The aching soul again made whole,
and priceless pardon won.
O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
the saints’ and angels’ song.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
and were the skies of parchment made;
were ev’ry stalk on earth a quill,
and ev’ryone a scribe by trade;
to write the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
nor could the scroll contain the whole,
though stretched from sky to sky.
O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
the saints’ and angels’ song.
–Frederick Lehman, 1917