I tried not to smile too much. Even today, even on St. Valentine's day, I was still supposed to be a refined lady. But, oh, how I missed him! And to recieve a letter from him, today! Emma, little Emma, came running out to the mailbox to see.
"Oh, today I don't care!" I exclaimed. I ran toward my little daughter, scooped her up into my arms, and skipped, laughing, back into our smiling house.
"A letter from Papa?" She asked, her eyes gleaming.
"Yes, a letter from Papa!" I set her on my lap, smoothing her dress. Then, slowly, she and I opened the letter together--my end of the envelope torn as straight as I could make it without a letter opener, hers a series of small tears made by sticky hands.
"My darling Jane and dearest Emma," it read. Emma giggled and shrieked on hearing her name, but I read on. "Today I can think only of you. Johnson, from the bunk nearest mine, reminded me that Valentine's day is soon. To be away from my wife and little girl now, when I wish to hold them closest! If I were not here to get money for you, if my work here were not so that we could start our lives over, independent, I would run home into your arms today, and kiss you, and hold you tight, and laugh when you laughed and smile when you smiled. I would pick flowers all the way from here to Missouri for you, and when I saw you I would forget the bouquet and drop it so that I could get to you that much faster. I will return to your love soon. But for now, my beloved wife, wrap yourself tight in a blanket woven of mine. Kiss our little girl for me.
Love always and forever, from your hearts to mine and back again,
David"
Emma slid off my lap, running out the door.
"Emma!" I called after her, "it's time for supper, not to play! Come back please!" I could hear her little voice singing one of her made-up songs about flowers and Papa and horses. Smiling, I shook my head. "Emma, please!" She skipped in through the front door again, suffocating a daisy in her grip. She held it out for me.
"So when Papa comes home you won't be sad abaout the flowers. One every day to tell you 'I love you' from Papa."
"One every day," I said, kissing her sun-warm cheek, "until your Papa comes back home again."
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