I recently learned of a something quite beautiful that happened for a man who, because his mother was very ill for many years and his father abandoned them, had to bounce around with relatives, was put into foster care, was himself in a children's hospital for some time, and then went to an orphanage. He was born into poverty and his grandparents who took care of him were elderly and ailing when it was decided that when he started school he would have to move from their household. This man is nearing 80 years old now.
Several years ago a mystery package arrived in the mail.
I contained a carefully put together scrapbook. Someone had put all the letters that had been received from his mother in chronological order. The person who sent this scrapbook is probably not the person to whom the letters were addressed.
He and his wife sat together and read one letter after another that his mother had written, expressing her love for him, her concern for him, and they cried their eyes out.
His mother had died in the 1950's.
Someone had saved the letters.
The person that they were addressed to cannot be found, they say. It was too long ago.
Soon I'm going to try and find someone who might be related to her.
Just in case.
Merry Christmas!
