Nancys Soldier

It was the 6thof April 1918. The harsh icy winds of Sydney came rushing in as Nancy Brown unlocked the front door of her quaint white cottage in Surry Hills. Against the red of her over-shawl her pale skin was as white as snow. She strode down the moss-covered path that led to the gate before the postman smiled, tipped his hat and delivered her a handful of coffee-stained letters.

Nancy hurried out of the cold back to the safety and comfort of the house. She set the mail down on the dining table and walked over to the sink. The warm water trickled gently over Nancy’s delicate hands and onto the dirty china plates from the evening before. The winter sun shone through the creamy lace curtains making the most beautiful patterns on the walls. Nancy watched in wonder. The dainty shapes danced across the room as the sun rose higher in the crisp morning sky.

The kettle whistled and Nancy poured the boiling water into a small china teacup. In the quiet of the kitchen Nancy looked around and noticed that one of the letters she had received was not a letter at all, but an information slip from the war office. She sighed as the tears began to well in her eyes. Through the tears she gazed at the mantelpiece above the fire. She skimmed across the framed black and white photos, remembering happier days.

Those fond memories. The picnic before Will left for the army, the first picture of them with their delightful baby boy. The perfect, breathtaking moments they had experienced together.
But then Will left to fight in The Great War. He missed his son grow up, he missed his mother’s funeral, he missed some of the most important times of his life.

Mrs. Smith from next door received the same envelope last week to inform her that her son Jack had been killed in action. Mrs. Smith had wept. She yelled at the father in church. “Why did you take him from me?” she would scream in agony.
Nancy dreaded what could await her in the letter.
Nancy walked over to the table. She stared down at the letter wondering how she would tell her son, so small and innocent, that he would never see his dearest Papa again.

William had been away for almost four years now and Nancy had prayed and trusted that he would return soon, but life went on and eventually she gave up all hope of ever seeing her love again.
She was about to open the telegram when there was a knock at the door. Nancy dried her tears and walked to the front of the house. She sniffled and grasped the brass handle...

Nancy stood there in shock. Her lifeless frowning face turned into a smile that went from ear to ear and her heart was met with more joy than she had ever felt in her life.

That letter hadn’t needed to be opened after all.

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