Amy Hill Hearth

June 1, 2022

Hello Everyone!

 

I wrote this on Memorial Day and received a very heartfelt response when I posted it on social media. It's short and sweet, and I thought I'd share it again here for those who missed it:

 

The scene: Dad's home office, circa 1962. The players: Dad and Amy (age 4). Dad is writing Christmas cards. Mom is Christmas shopping with my older siblings. I want to help Dad with the cards. He suggests that I draw pictures that he will enclose with each card. (Clever man. This would keep me busy.) Then he tells me a story about each person on the list. "We were friends in high school," etc. Then he came to a name and said, "This is the mother of one of my friends from the war." Why, I asked, are you writing to his mother? "Because he was lost in the war." Lost? I pictured someone wandering around in the woods. "She's a widow and he was her only child," Dad continued. "She likes to hear from me, so I write to her several times a year." I had to think about this for a few moments. "So you're writing to her, because he can't?" Dad smiled. "That's right. That's exactly it. Now why don't you draw her a big picture - make it special." And so I did. And that's what I'm thinking about all these years later on Memorial Day.

 

Best wishes to all of you, and thank you for subscribing to my newsletter.

 

-Amy Hill Hearth

New York Times bestselling author

Learn more at www.amyhillhearth.com