Dear Rita,
I wasn’t expecting your second letter. I was Christmas shopping with Corrine and Marie in town. Levi was watching Robbie—the wind is too cold for him and sets him coughing. Yes, I haven’t sent him away altogether. We just go on as if nothing happened...but there’s something in the air between us. I wish I could forget all of it.
Marie took Corrine to play in the toy store (They have a miniature carousel, it’s grand!) and I was looking at the bustling people all around me, with ruddy cheeks and shining eyes. Christmas is everywhere in Rockport. A garland on every light pole. A wreath on every door. But what captured my attention was the color of the sunset. Do you see the same sunset as me, Rita? In the winter our sunsets are like red fiery jewels lighting up the sky in a tapestry of color. I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped to stare at the way the colors played against the tall, white steeple of Christ Church. People had to walk around me, but no one mumbled or bumped me. I suppose they all surmised I’d lost someone.
Then the postman, Sam, came flying out of the post office with your letter. “Here! This came on the last train, Glory!” At first I thought it must be V-mail...but the envelope was wrong. When I saw it was from you I sat on a bench in front of the church and I read it and I cried.
How I wish I could be there with you or you with me. How unfair that the war keeps us apart from those we love the most, both overseas and here at home. And then I thought of our letters traveling toward each other, out of rhythm, like a fast and necessary conversation. They may have mingled in the same postal bag!
And this war. How skillfully you sum up what we have danced all these months around. I’m glad we feel the same way.
What can I say about this war that you don’t know in an even greater way than myself? That it is necessary? It is. There is an evil out there, Rita. An evil that must be taken care of or we are at risk of the same pathogen. Sometimes I wish I could go over there, too. That I could wear that uniform and spread the Good News that freedom and Eden do exist and open their arms to all who would like to partake in it.
I suppose I need to copy those words down as they may be the beginnings of my first speech at Anna’s ministry. Impassioned, yes. But from my heart, Rita. From my heart to your heart. Our boys are dying all around us. Every day. But they are dying for a reason. If there is such a thing. If there was ever a time to put our lives on the line, it is now. Don’t you feel it, Rita? The being one with history?
Please let me know when you get news. I’m sending love and joy.
Merry Christmas, Rita,
Glory