Years ago, [don’t ask how many, and I won’t tell!], my Daddy
was in the Navy and spent many, many months away from his family. My sister and
I, along with out Mother, spent our days talking about him, our evenings were
spent penning him long letters, and praying for God to send him home safe to
us.
Daddy would write short little notes whenever he could.
Sometimes nothing more than a line or two! But we anticipated every single note
we got!
And every time Daddy would arrive back home, he’d bring the “three
of his girls” something special.
One time a real crocodile leather purse from Italy; another
time a rosary blessed at the Vatican; another time a pair of wooden shoes from
Holland. And the list went on.
Here’s a little something he brought back to me from Japan. It’s
getting pretty brittle, and I really should frame it, instead of leaving it
open to the air.
He probably paid very little for it. But to me…. It’s one of
my life’s great treasure’s. Because Daddy brought it for me.
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