Annie's
Soldier
Part:2
The next day after school, Annie showed me a letter
she’d written to Scott. It was short, but I could see the
work she’d put into it in every carefully lettered word.
Dear Scott, I’m in fourth grade. I’m in gymnastics twelve
hours a week. I like SpongeBob and using my dad’s
computer to play office. Annie. “That’s nice,” I told her,
and she sent the letter off.
Starting almost immediately, the first thing Annie did
when she got home from school or gymnastics class was
to check the mailbox. Three weeks passed. I figured Scott
wasn’t going to write back.
“Don’t feel bad,” I told Annie one afternoon following
another fruitless check of the mailbox. “Scott’s a soldier.
He’s got all kinds of things to think about over there.
Writing you a letter right now might not be so easy for him.”
“I know, Mom,” Annie said, her voice upbeat as usual.
“But I can still think he’s going to write back. I can hope.”
A month flew by and I hoped Annie had moved on.
Then one day a package with a military return address
showed up. Inside was a bracelet made of rope, a small
stuffed camel and another handwritten note from
Scott. Every guy in my unit wears a bracelet like the one
enclosed, it read. Annie immediately wrapped it around
her tiny wrist; it was a perfect fit. She went to bed that
night with it on, and the camel tucked in beside her. I
peeked in on her later. Her face, bathed in the soft pink
glow of her half-moon nightlight, was peaceful almost
beyond imagining, so opposite of the way our world was
now. How would she react if Scott or someone in his unit
got hurt or worse? I went to bed more worried than ever.
“Christmas is only a month away,” Annie said the next
morning at breakfast. “Let’s send Scott a holiday goodie
package. We can put cookies in it. The frosted cut-out
kind. And Chex Mix. You can’t have Christmas without
Chex Mix.”
Christmas in Iraq. I closed my eyes and tried
to imagine it. Broiling heat. Constant danger. And
homesickness. I opened my eyes and saw Annie staring at me, a big, eager grin on her face. I looked at that
innocent, completely trusting face, and decided I had
to say something more than I had so far. “War isn’t nice,
honey. This isn’t just another fun school project. It’s real.
And dangerous. I want you to know that.”
Annie fixed me with one of those looks she gives me
from time to time. A look that basically says: “Mom, how
can you be so dumb? “I know, Mom,” she said. “And that’s
why I wanted to write the letter! That’s why I put Scott
and the soldiers in my prayers every night.”
Now I was the one being naive. I should have known
Annie had thought this through, and that there was no
hiding the world from her. And certainly there was no
holding back her prayers. And how could she pray if she
didn’t know what she was praying for?
“Christmas in Kuwait!” I said to Annie. “We should put
some practical things in the package too. Things he can
use every day, like gum and lip balm. He can’t drive down
to Target like we can.”
Annie nodded vigorously, as if this fact had already
occurred to her.
END OF PART TWO
Part 3 next monday
https://t.me/PW5_5
Soldier
Part:2
The next day after school, Annie showed me a letter
she’d written to Scott. It was short, but I could see the
work she’d put into it in every carefully lettered word.
Dear Scott, I’m in fourth grade. I’m in gymnastics twelve
hours a week. I like SpongeBob and using my dad’s
computer to play office. Annie. “That’s nice,” I told her,
and she sent the letter off.
Starting almost immediately, the first thing Annie did
when she got home from school or gymnastics class was
to check the mailbox. Three weeks passed. I figured Scott
wasn’t going to write back.
“Don’t feel bad,” I told Annie one afternoon following
another fruitless check of the mailbox. “Scott’s a soldier.
He’s got all kinds of things to think about over there.
Writing you a letter right now might not be so easy for him.”
“I know, Mom,” Annie said, her voice upbeat as usual.
“But I can still think he’s going to write back. I can hope.”
A month flew by and I hoped Annie had moved on.
Then one day a package with a military return address
showed up. Inside was a bracelet made of rope, a small
stuffed camel and another handwritten note from
Scott. Every guy in my unit wears a bracelet like the one
enclosed, it read. Annie immediately wrapped it around
her tiny wrist; it was a perfect fit. She went to bed that
night with it on, and the camel tucked in beside her. I
peeked in on her later. Her face, bathed in the soft pink
glow of her half-moon nightlight, was peaceful almost
beyond imagining, so opposite of the way our world was
now. How would she react if Scott or someone in his unit
got hurt or worse? I went to bed more worried than ever.
“Christmas is only a month away,” Annie said the next
morning at breakfast. “Let’s send Scott a holiday goodie
package. We can put cookies in it. The frosted cut-out
kind. And Chex Mix. You can’t have Christmas without
Chex Mix.”
Christmas in Iraq. I closed my eyes and tried
to imagine it. Broiling heat. Constant danger. And
homesickness. I opened my eyes and saw Annie staring at me, a big, eager grin on her face. I looked at that
innocent, completely trusting face, and decided I had
to say something more than I had so far. “War isn’t nice,
honey. This isn’t just another fun school project. It’s real.
And dangerous. I want you to know that.”
Annie fixed me with one of those looks she gives me
from time to time. A look that basically says: “Mom, how
can you be so dumb? “I know, Mom,” she said. “And that’s
why I wanted to write the letter! That’s why I put Scott
and the soldiers in my prayers every night.”
Now I was the one being naive. I should have known
Annie had thought this through, and that there was no
hiding the world from her. And certainly there was no
holding back her prayers. And how could she pray if she
didn’t know what she was praying for?
“Christmas in Kuwait!” I said to Annie. “We should put
some practical things in the package too. Things he can
use every day, like gum and lip balm. He can’t drive down
to Target like we can.”
Annie nodded vigorously, as if this fact had already
occurred to her.
END OF PART TWO
Part 3 next monday
https://t.me/PW5_5