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hazeleyed angel

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Member Since: Oct, 2007

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A Soldiers letter home....A mother's letter to her soldier boy
By hazeleyed angel
Thursday, December 06, 2007

Rated "G" by the Author.

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a letter to and from a soldier and his mom, a story of acceptance, loyalty, depression and the outcome of some of our military's hero's.

Dear Mom, Jul 2, 1964

I am coming home from this war very soon, I long to look upon your face once again, my heart smiles at the thought of being home, I am writing this letter to ask a favor of you, is it possible I bring a friend home with me?
Love your son



Dear Son, Jul 24, 1964

Me and your dad would love to have ur friend for a few weeks, while you are here son, our hearts swell with pride knowing that you served our country so bravely, I will make room for both of you.
yours true ly, Mom


Dear Mom, Jul 30, 1964

I am happy that you will accept my friend into your home, but I must tell you Mom, that he lost his arm in a battle and he will need time to heal. He is excited about getting to meet my family, for his family are all gone.
Love your son

Dear Son Aug 22, 1964

Son, I talked with your father and he is so proud of you both for defending our country, I will make room for both of you and tell your friend that he is most welcomed in our home.
yours true ly, Mom

Dear Mom Sept. 12, 1964

Thank you mom and dad, but I must also warn you that my friend also lost a leg in this war, and he must use a wheelchair to get around, he is so depressed and is afraid that you will judge him, I told him that you and dad would accept him with open arms.
Love your son

Dear Son Sept. 29, 1964

Your friend must be so depressed, are you sure our place is right for him? he sounds like he needs special attention, you have fought such a long hard battle, in a war that made no sense from the start, you must remember that we love you and always will.
Love, Your Mom

Dear Mom Oct. 10, 1964

Since I have written you last, my friend have lost his other leg in this war, and his good arm got an infection in it and he lost that one to, he is so depressed, and feels that no one will accept him for who he is, nor what he has done for his country, I just want to make sure that you will accept him for the great hero he is.
Love, Your son

Dear Son Nov. 3, 1964

I have thought long and hard about this, and I have talked with your dad, we are so proud of you, but we must ask, how are we suppose to take care of this young man? his life has no quality to it, he will never be able to work or do anything for himself. I must ask if you know of anybody else he could stay with, please let me know soon.
Love, Your Mom

Dear Mom, Nov. 27, 1964

We fought all those battles so proudly, Mom, he is a gentle soul, you would think of him as a son, I just know it, you would love him and take care of him as well as you did me as I was growing up. He said he would not want to be a bothersome to you or dad, and he would stay to himself, and away from everyone, if that's what you would want. Let me know soon, Mom, for it's next month I will be coming home.
Love, Your Son

Dear Son, Dec. 5, 1964

I am sorry to write you this letter, son, but I and your dad have decided it be best if your friend not come with you, I would not be able to love him as I do you son, I would not be able to care for him, I am sure he is no less of a man, nor no less of a hero, but I must ask you not to bring him home.
Love, Your Mom

On a cold dark winter's day, around noon, a knock came on the door of the Jones'.
Mrs. Jones answered the door, and she knew what the two Marine officers were there for, they read her the last note, they gave their condolences and walked away.
Mr. Jones came to the door, just as the officers drove away, to see his wife crying with her face in both her hands.
Later that night Mr. Jones knelt down beside his bed, tired from crying, so he decided to talk to God a while.
Mrs. Jones sat at the table on the telephone, calling all her relatives, making plans to bury her only son.
Two weeks later, the funeral was to be, so the family gathered so gracefully at the church.
Mr. Jones held tight to his wifes arm, helping her down the ailse of the church toward their sons casket.
As they approached it, something didn't seem right, they stood at his casket looking down at this young man, it was thier son, he looked so proud in his uniform, they felt so disturbed to see him this way.
As the tears ran down their faces, they realized that the friend he was talking about in his letters were about himself, he laid there looking so brave, with no arms, and no legs.

(this story is about so many of our wounded soldiers, at home and abroad, I thank them for their sacrifices that they made for me and our country, and I believe that every soldier, alive or dead, are hero's, peace be with you, where ever you are.)


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