Letters from War by Mark Schultz Read Free Book Online Page A

Controlled and never careless, just like his personality. Beth doesn’t know if handwriting can show a person’s heart and soul, but it certainly seems to for James.
    The very first letter he sent her is at the top. This is one that she opens often. It still surprises her the way it did years ago. In the large and quiet house on a sleepy June afternoon, Beth opens the letter dated September 24, 2006.
    Soon she begins unfolding letter after letter.
    They are as powerful as a picture slideshow or a home movie. Perhaps even more.
    Pictures and film can show faces and smiles and experiences, but they don’t always show sentiment.
    Words are different. Words reach the soul.
    She has almost memorized these letters, yet she continues to read them to hear from James and to keep believing.
    She can hear him speaking as she reads the words.
    They are beautiful, just as he is.
    September 24, 2006
    Dear Mom:
    I thought I’d be a little more nervous about the nine weeks ahead of me, but I’m not. I felt more nervous in the hours leading up to saying good-bye. I wasn’t sure how the party and the farewells would go. Guess I was afraid of getting too emotional. Good thing I got out right before tears showed up!
    I’m writing this on the bus headed to Fort Benning. I’m still stunned at how many showed up at the party. Did you pay people to come or something? I know—a lot of it is because of Dad. I think that if it had just been the three of us, I would have felt his absence. But the thirty-plus people who came to say good-bye more than compensated for Dad not being able to.
    I wanted to write to thank you. Not for the party—I mean, yes, I want to thank you for that, and I want to thank you for the gift. But I really want to thank you for something else.
    I want to thank you for being a really good mother. I could say words like “kind” and “loving” and all that, and you’re all of those. But I just think you’re an awesome mom. I admire how strong you are, around Emily and me, around others. I can’t imagine having another mother. You’ve always been there for me, and I know even now you always will be. It’s comforting knowingthat. I’m sure I’m going to have to remind myself of that a lot over the next couple of months.
    Thank you for never once trying to convince me not to do this. I know the words you said before I left—I will remember them always, Mom. But I’m not going anywhere. Not yet. Right now, I’m just going to get beat up and then strengthened—physically and mentally. I’m ready, but I’m sure I’ll be even readier after graduation.
    I don’t know how often I’ll be able to be in touch, but my promise to you is that I’ll keep the tradition Dad started when the two of you were together. I just ask that you write me back as often as possible. It’ll be nice to hear a voice from back home. I’ll add the accent myself.
    I love you. Send my love to Emily—this letter is as much for her as it is for you (not that she’ll appreciate it!). Will write and call again soon.
    James
    October 1, 2006
    Dear Mom:
    I can’t write long—we only get an hour or not even that of personal time every evening—but wanted to thank you for your letter. It means a lot. It’s nice to hear those words and to remember them throughout the day. When I can.
    I gotta tell you—it sure would be easier e-mailing. But I know you hate e-mail and the Web and all that. I know that was part of our deal.
    Training has been tough, I won’t kid you. But I’m doing well. The first couple of days with the reception battalion went on forever with waiting around and paperwork. You should see me now. Man do I have an ugly head with my hair gone. Waiting around was hard because I had no idea what—and when—something was going to finally start happening.
    So let me share how God works in great