Every Christmas, I look forward to one gift – my father’s handwritten letter on nothing-special paper, that peeps out of my stocking on December 25. It is so special that I don’t even read them.  There is such great potency in my father’s words, though they are few. They always make me cry.   The Jane Eyre Effect. In any important relationship that I have ever had, the handwritten letter was a significant form of communication. There is something about the sincerity of the written word, pen to paper that sets a man apart from the boys. It’s the extra effort and time, or perhaps are card chosen just for…