Dear Mrs. Whitehall,
I’m writing to thank you. I have never seen something so beautiful as the baby clothes you sent. I’ll wrap Little Sal in the blanket on his christening day, which should be soon. I wanted to wait until Toby got back, but Mrs. Vincenzo said a new soul can’t go too long without the Lord’s blessing.
Everything is going all right, I suppose. I’m back at work in the kitchen with Little Sal to keep me company. Funny, I thought everything would change after he came along, but not much has. My daddy doesn’t pay me one lick of attention unless I have to take a break to feed the baby, then he hollers until I come back. It’s a miracle my milk hasn’t dried up. For the most part, the days go by the same way. I make the same old food. The same customers come and go. Some tickle Little Sal’s chin, but most act like he’s not even there.
Toby says I am an important person because I’m keeping the world even—he’s destroying God’s green earth in this war, and I’m adding new life to it. I felt good thinking about that until I got your letter telling me about Toby’s poem. It got me thinking that I haven’t done enough. I worry this new life is too far away from Toby to do him any good. Hiding away in the tavern isn’t helping him any, either.
Mrs. Vincenzo told me about your preaching. She says you’re finding your way through helping others. She said you have more love in your heart than you have people to give it to. I think that’s a good way to be.
Regards,
Roylene Dawson