Special Delivery

I have a terrible inkling that the last dear old woman who asked me to mail her a photograph went and died before I ever got around to it. (The horrendously overdue package made it to Ukraine but was sent back). So in this woman's request for the photo of her and her granddaughter to be mailed, I find a chance of redemption. It should not take the fathomless wheels of karma to teach me to mail old ladies who endured the Great Patriotic War and the mother-loving purges a photograph to make them happy before they die, but I am not what you call a real woman of the people.