Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: DISTANCE (10/08/20)
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TITLE: Hearts Bound In Love | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marilyn Borga
10/15/20 -
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Mid-morning, she stopped to wash her hands, then set off down the dirt path to the center of the village. In the dim lantern-lit store, she ignored the rows of dry-goods and farm tools and hurried to the back, where Olga, the postmistress, was emptying a mailbag of its letters.
“Good morning, Margit! I knew you wouldn’t tarry long once you heard the train’s whistle!”
Olga sorted through the pile at a leisurely pace while Margit resisted the urge to tap her toes. At last, the woman held up a narrow blue envelope, perusing it carefully.
“From America,” she declared. “Yes. For you, my friend.”
Margit snatched the letter from her friend’s hand and held it briefly to her cheek before turning on her heel and speeding for home. Olga shrugged, disappointed that she would have to wait for another day to hear any news.
Once she arrived home, Margit allowed herself to feast her eyes on the familiar handwriting and traced the graceful swirls with her fingertips. She grabbed a sharp knife and carefully slit the envelope, releasing the fragile pages. She dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron, mindful not to smear the ink with a tear. Sighing, she sat at the heavy oak table and began to read:
“Dearest Mama and Papa,”
The miles retreated. The ocean separating them drained away. She sat with Annika, her eldest child, in the sunny kitchen described in a previous letter. Margit could hear the low gurgle of the teakettle as it began to heat. Her fingers warmed as Annika poured the water into mugs for raspberry tea. She pondered what Annika might serve with the tea. A piece of warm gingerbread, or perhaps, some leftover strudel? The strudel, she decided, because she knows it is my favorite.
Margit continued reading, catching her breath at the declaration: “By early spring, your first grandchild will arrive. We are setting aside money each week, so we can have a photograph taken to send you once he is born. Mikhail is certain that we will have a boy…”
What joy! She drank in every word. By the time the rest of her family returned home, she would likely have the letter memorized. Feelings bobbed like a leaf caught in a swift rocky stream. Oh, how she missed her child! It had been two years since Annika and her husband had joined that ever-growing stream of dreamers searching for opportunities not available in their homeland. They had conquered new challenges with courage, hard work, and determination. Margit could not deny the hope and confidence that was evident in her daughter’s narratives. Their decision to leave had been wise; she knew in her heart that it was so. And yet, the insurmountable distance rent a hole in her heart. Shadows of worry and loneliness threatened to creep in, but she fought back, determined to hold fast to the good.
As she had countless other times, Margit lifted her arms, surrendering the future to God’s loving care. With praise and petition, she covered Annika in prayer until she felt a cloak of peace surround and bind them together. While she might not meet her grandchild in this life, she rested in the sweet assurance that they would have eternity to be together.
She smoothed the precious letter with her hand, then set it at her husband’s place at the table. As she added chunks of ham to the pot of beans, she began to compose a response in her mind: “So happy to hear your news! I will be anticipating your little one’s arrival throughout the winter months. We are all well. I wish you could see how much your brother has grown. He brags that he will soon be as tall as his papa…”
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