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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I found an old, worn box Inside my antique dining hutch It was filled with yellowed paper Greeting cards and such The envelopes were dated back To nineteen thirty-nine From far and wide in that December On the eve of Christmas time The tattered pages, worn so thin That I could scarcely read Were filled with warmest wishes Not a hint of modern greed Although ornate with pressed gold-leaf The simple cards were dear And time rolled back as they revealed The climate of that year When thunder over Europe Hinted of what was in store I do not speak of weather But the coming of the War The letter sent from Scotland Was the most remarkable It spoke how fear of Hitler Even then was palpable The longhand note from Glasgow Spoke of bombings in the night And prayers that their loved ones In the field would be alright Holidays away from home Soldiers going off to serve Hoping when it mattered They could summon up the nerve How far have we come since then… Has it been so very long? Is the cause more “right” than it was then Or is it still just as "wrong"? Whichever side you stand today On the battle lines of war Remember that you’re free to say Just what you stand up for *Note: I found these notes and letters while I was cleaning out clutter last Saturday. I don't know how they got in my house, but I am thankful for the precious perspective that they offer. I will keep the letters in a safe place until I know with whom I should leave them. Thanks for reading! Donna
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