Dear John
Dearest Uncle John,
The atrocious, unfounded war is finally over.
I will be finally returning home soon but before I do, I’d like to ask you a favor.
While in recovery from my wounds, I met a young infantry soldier, who was maimed in combat.
Carlos, has lost his left arm and his left leg, when he accidentally fell upon a live mine.
He has no family in the States and I was hoping you would agree if Carlos can come stay with us — on our return home.
I remembered your kindness when you took me in as a child, after the fatal crash that took the lives of both my parents.
I thought to ask you for this kindness to a fellow soldier who has no one to return home to.
I shall await your reply
Your loving nephew,
PFC Charles Singer.
Dearest Charles,
I pray for your speedy recovery and your safe return home to us.
About the matter you speak of in your letter to me; I cannot my son take on the responsibility of another mouth to feed, the war has left us strapped for resources.
When your father, my brother and your dear mother were killed, I took you to my bosom, raising you as my own,
It was a different time then, the farm was thriving and we had so many hands on board, since the war — it isn’t like that today
The farm has gone under and we are in debt.
Please try to find accommodations for this young man.
I commend your good heart but I cannot at this time take on another mouth to feed.
I await your arrival home.
Your loving Uncle,
John Taylor Singer.
Dearest Uncle John,
I’ve received your letter and was very disappointed in what you stated
I had no idea of your difficulties on the farm,
I must though entreat you once again, Carlos plight is worse then I let on;
He has also lost one of his eyes, his vision is impaired and he is in dire straits,
Please, Uncle, think of this young private, who sacrificed so much on the field for the love of freedom.
Your loving nephew,
PFC Charles Singer.
Dearest Charles,
I also am guilty of not disclosing the truth about the situation here at home, I did not want you to worry about more then you should have to.
The farm has gone under and the banks are foreclosing on us.
As I am writing to you, I am in the process of making other arrangements.
With four children of my own, your Aunt and yourself upon your return there will be no room in the rental I am seeking to let.
It is at this time a very difficult thing you ask of me,
I cannot my son, as much as it causes me sorrow, take on this responsibility.
Again, I ask you on your side to help this young man find a home and let us not speak of this matter again.
Your loving uncle
John Taylor Singer.
John, is boarding up the last of the windows of the farm he was raised on.
A sadness grips his chest as he wipes away the beads of sweat that have formed on his dusty brow.
He has lost everything his family had worked so hard for, so many generations now.
As he hammers the last nail in the proverbial coffin, he turns to look around the rundown farm, the sweltering Iowa sun beating down on him relentlessly.
He sees two men in the distance, a mirage in the illusionary rippling sunrays, from the walkway they stoically approach — two men dressed in stiff military uniforms.
He smiles in welcome, Charles is finally home, he thinks to himself, happiness bursting in his heart, he raises his arms to hug him back into the folds of home.
As the soldiers draw closer John realizes that neither one of them is Charles, his arms falling to his side, a sudden empty sadness anchoring them to his sides.
“No, no, no”, he screams in horror, as realization hits square in the heart.
The pain of loss overtaking his already battered body, he falls to his knees.
The soldiers attend to John in his moment of loss, just before the take their leave, one of the soldiers places a letter by John’s side, as he sits down on the decrepit wooden steps of the old porch,
John, reaches with trembling hands for the letter, he carefully rips the envelope open, he begins to read…
Dear Uncle John,
By the time my letter reaches you — I will be gone, all will be done.
I am so sorry Uncle to add to your pain, your difficulties, but it was inevitable.
You see, Uncle, when I wrote to you about the plight of Carlos, I was writing to you about myself.
It was I, who in trying to save the lives of the soldiers in my battalion, fell onto the mine.
It was I, who lost my arm, my leg, my vision…
I remembered how hard it was for you when you took me in as an child, I knew I’d be a burden as half the man I used to be, I would not be able to carry my weight around the farm.
That is why I asked you for help the way I did, I needed to know if you would be able to care for a soldier who would be an invalid.
With the loss of the farm — my decision was not difficult to make.
I knew I could not burden you any longer. I will finish things here, they should have been finished on the field.
It is easier this way for all of us.
I love you all — you will be with me eternally, I thank you for the kindness you gave me as an orphaned waif.
Forgive me, and every once in while light a candle for my wretched soul.
I have found new accommodations.
Your forever thankful nephew,
Charles John Singer.
John, dejectedly walks up the stairs of the old church on the farm he was born on. He lights a candle for Charles, he prays for his lost soul.
“Forgive me lord, I could have offered Carlos a home, I did it once, why was I not able to find it in my heart to do again. What was one more mouth to feed where there is love. Forgive me brother I failed you, we all failed you”.
John, lights another candle for his own wretched soul.
Disclaimer; All persons fictitious, any similarities to any living persons or those now deceased, are purely coincidental.
Copyright ©. R Tsambounieri Talarantas. Jan 2019. All Rights Reserved.