❄Chapter 1❄
It was a mid Fall evening, the air becoming colder and colder from the gradually setting sun. Two weakened postal workers stepped back into the Post Office from the rear of the building wiping the cold sweat from their brows. They didn’t even bother waving goodbye to the truck driver as they just had to sit down!
“Whew!” one of them began, promptly closing the back door behind him and his co-worker. “That was the heaviest thing I have ever carried in my life!”
“Same!” the other agreed, while they both plopped themselves down onto folding metal chairs.
“Why the heck did they feel the need to replace a perfectly good mail sorter with a brand new one when there was nothing wrong with it?”
The co-worker shrugged. “Getting with the times I guess. We certainly need one that runs faster.”
“Yeah, but ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it right?’ I mean they’re always pushing for ways to cut costs so how is buying a brand new $30,000 sorting machine helping with that hmm?”
“Hey man, don’t ask me. It’s all a bunch of bureaucratic crap that we postal workers in the trenches don’t have any business knowing.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh well,” the man sighed, glancing over at the now empty spot where the old mail sorter once sat, making the room feel a little bigger. “Guess we better sweep up before the new one--” he stopped, peering at something resting on the floor in its place, surrounded by dust bunnies. He stood up from his chair and went over to get a closer look.
“What?” his co-worker asked.
Crouching down to pick the item up, the man found it to be an old card and gently wiped away the dust to read what was on it. The ink had faded a bit, but it was still mostly legible, except for the date the letter was posted. It was addressed to a woman and at the top left corner the Sender only wrote their initials above a rather odd address. Below that was a circular stamp that read, “Department of the Army.”
“Wow!” the man whispered.
“What?” his co-worker asked again, coming to his side.
The man stood, studying the card intently, front and back, for a few seconds. “Just found a pretty old card. I know because stamps sure aren’t that cheap anymore!”
“Was that underneath the old machine?”
“Yeah…”
Silence ensued between the two as they handed the card back and forth to each other, feeling it, studying it, and thinking about who sent it and when.
“This had to have been from a soldier, possibly in the great world war,” the man who discovered the card deduced. “The penmanship fits the time and it looks like a Christmas card because of the holly stamp on the back.”
“Wow!” the co-worker breathed. “How unfortunate it got lost under that machine all these years. What if that lady was expecting it? And what do you suppose it says?”
“I dunno,” the man shook his head, “but this is a local address and as postal workers it is our duty to deliver this. Even if it is...quite possibly fifty years overdue. Hopefully this woman is still alive and lives in the same house. If not,” he met with his friend’s gaze, “I guess it’s up to the current resident to decide what they want to do with it.”
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The Christmas season was inching closer and closer and Maureen Young couldn’t wait! The spirit that always came with it made magical things happen that could never be made possible otherwise. Lives and hearts change every year for the better through all the kindness, giving, and love. The problems of the world are forgotten and humanity is reminded of all the good that is still out there. That is why Christmas...is her favorite time of the year.
She’d feel guilty for nearly forgetting about Thanksgiving every year - which was a week away - in her anticipated excitement for the holidays, but thankfully her parents were always right on top with planning the big dinner and she loved that that tradition in her life has never changed. This year it was her job to provide the cranberry sauce and green bean casserole, it’d actually been that way for the past two years since her Grandmother’s passing and the food assignments changed a little. Her Grandmother Maureen, whom she was named after, was a beautiful soul. A woman full of life, wisdom, and grace. Maureen greatly relished all the moments she spent with her Grandma when she moved into her little Victorian cottage, that was once Maureen senior's childhood home, to help care for her as her health began to decline. Oh the stories Grandma Maureen would tell her...what a wonderful day and age she lived in. She felt like she knew everything about her Grandma and it was fantastic! They were alike in so many ways, and the years they spent together created a bond between them that seems so lacking in Grandmothers and Grandchildren today. Maureen felt truly blessed.
It took quite a while for her to get over her Grandmother’s passing, partly because the cottage just didn’t feel the same without her. That’s why when an injured cat - whose leg got nicked by a car wheel as it was crossing the road - was brought into the Veterinary clinic she works at a year ago, Maureen took the poor cat in to have as a companion in her lonely home and also because no one came to claim her. Maureen named her Maya, as her coloring and markings reminded her of the intricate style and color of ancient Mayan statues. Maya was truly a sweet and well behaved cat which always made Maureen wonder why no one claimed her. “Well...their loss, my gain,” she would always say to herself with a smile. And what a gain she was.
For the past few years friends and co-workers would always tease Maureen about when she was going to find a man to fill the lonely void in her life, to which she would reply, “I just spent six years in Veterinary school and am finally getting established as a Veterinarian. I won’t let all those years, and my career, go to waste!” In other words, she was more focused on her career at this point in her life. It’s not that she didn’t want to eventually find a good man and settle down, she just had other priorities at the moment and, in all actuality, the right man just hadn’t presented himself yet. As a pretty brown haired, blue eyed girl, she’d gone on a few dates in her 28 years of life, even had a serious boyfriend from Estonia of all places, but none of them seemed to connect to the puzzle piece that is Maureen Young. Sure it would bring her down at times, but her Grandmother advised her to “just pursue your dreams and everything will fall into place.” It seemed that nothing ever went wrong in Grandma Maureen’s life, probably because she followed that very advice. That gave Maureen the strength to carry on.
It was a sunny and crisp Fall morning in the town of Evansville, perfect for a day off from work which Maureen hadn’t taken since...her very first day of work! She certainly earned it! The beautifully auburn colored trees in the groves just outside of town were about to lose all their leaves for the season and she wanted to head over and bask in them before it was too late.
Before leaving her house though, she wrote down a reminder to pick up the food she was to bring for Thanksgiving on a sticky note and pressed it on the corner of the kitchen counter.
Just as she was about to say goodbye to Maya, a car horn sounded a few times from just outside. She peeked out the window and saw that it was the mailman.
“Since when does he honk for me?” Maureen asked herself as she opened the front door and waved at the mailman in acknowledgement. The man waved back with a smile and then drove away. Maureen stood in confusion. “Okaaaay,” she said, stepping off the deck and heading for the mailbox.
“I guess he delivered something important?” She shuddered to think there was a "Past Due" bill in there or something. At least she didn’t have a mortgage payment to worry about since her Grandma willed her the cottage and it’d been paid off for many years. That was a big plus in her young life.
Maureen found herself carefully opening the door of the mailbox and peeking in.
She was expecting at least 3 pieces of mail in there, but no...there was just one. She reached for the parchment like envelope and the size and weight of it told her it was a card. But this didn’t look like any usual card she’d ever received. There was a hint of an antique smell coming from it and the penmanship thereon was quite fine.
“Miss Maureen Baker,” she read aloud, her brows then furrowing for a moment. “Well they got the Maureen part right, but...wait,” she froze. Why did that last name sound familiar? It didn’t take long for it to register. Her Grandmother’s name for many years was Maureen Cuthburt, naturally since marrying her Grandfather Richard Cuthburt, but her maiden last name was Baker. This had just become intriguing...
Maureen promptly glanced over at the name of the Sender. There was no name, only initials above an address she didn’t recognize. The “Department of the Army,” stamp stuck out like a sore thumb. “What?” she whispered, turning the card over. A faint stamp of holly leaves with berries “sealed” the envelope. “Why would someone from the Army send a card to Grandma?” Her heart and mind began to race in curiosity and question. She studied the card again, even sniffed it. Yup, it definitely smelled like something from an antique shop. “How old is this card?” she asked in wonder. In an instant she raced back inside the house to open it and find out!
Plopping herself down onto her Grandma’s old, fancy sofa, she was just about to rip open the envelope when suddenly, she was stopped by some unknown force. The card now seemed to her a sacred thing, a piece of her family history, and she felt inclined to treat it as such. Carefully she carried it into the kitchen where her letter opener was, and returned with both items to the sofa.
It was the strangest feeling, as she carefully sliced open the top of the envelope. It was a mix of curiosity, thrill, and fear of the unknown. There was no denying the age of the card as she pulled it out of the envelope and awed at the beautiful Christmas scene printed upon it. It was definitely vintage. Suddenly this whole thing started to feel pretty cool!
In a gentle quickness she opened the card and there was a lot of text within written in that same elaborate handwriting that was on the envelope. She was pretty sure it was a gentleman’s handwriting. She wanted to delve right into the message, but the date at the top of the card caught her attention.
She gaped. The card was dated on Christmas Eve, 51 years ago this coming Christmas. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered breathlessly. It was like she’d just been given something from a time capsule. “How did this get lost in the mail? And how was it found?” But she couldn’t worry herself with those questions now. She leaned back into the old sofa to get more comfortable as she began to read.
My dearest, darling Maureen,
How is my dream girl on this cold, Christmas Eve night? Fine, I hope. Granted it’s not as cold here, but it may as well be without the warmth of your presence by my side. I can picture you now, darling, gazing at the lights upon your Christmas tree through a thick strand of your golden hair, submissive to your thoughts with a far-away look in your eye. You are missing me this Christmas just as I am missing you. You are asking yourself questions, particularly at this time, but do not worry, darling, because I am well and in good health.You are with me constantly, my love, because we are inseparable in mind and spirit, even if in reality we are seven thousand miles apart.
This is a perfect night for dreaming. There’s a big silver dollar of a moon and a cool breeze floating on the air. What a night, darling. It reminds me of April 15th when I met the girl of my dreams. No, there isn’t any pine trees or a parked car in front of the high school’s Sock Hop, but just the same it reminds me of a night I’ll never forget. Though awkward it may be, I am trying to say that I love you Maureen. I love you more than seems humanly possible, but why do you have to haunt me all the time?
Perhaps it is because of something I should have done that day at the Train Station when we were bidding each other an excruciating farewell. You were wearing that cheap promise ring I gave to you, and that would have been enough. Maureen Joan Baker, I want to spend the rest of my life with you when this war is over. And so my Christmas gift to you is a voice from seven thousand miles away asking for your hand in marriage. I will await your answer with great anticipation, even though I have a pretty good idea of what it will be. With all that I am able to control I promise to return to you my dearest and we will wed and spend the rest of our days together in bliss.
Right now, as I close my eyes, I picture kissing your sweet, tender lips, underneath the mistletoe in the light of the Christmas tree; the snow gently falling outside the window. Oh how my heart aches for your touch Maureen. Your love makes me strong and keeps me going.
I must leave you for tonight, dearest, but I will write tomorrow. Please assure my parents that I am well. Merry Christmas and goodnight, sweetheart, and sweet dreams. Dream of me? For I will sure be dreaming of you.
With all my love,
Stanley
While reading the end of the letter there Maureen had her hand held to her heart with tears forming in her eyes and smiling. It was the most romantic thing she’d read in a long time and it pained her to think that her dear Grandmother never received it.
But when she read the signed name at the bottom her eyes widened in curiosity. “Stanley? Who is he?” she asked, looking back at the envelope. She sighed as there was only the initial E for his last name. She froze for a moment, staring at the wall in deep thought as Maya jumped onto her lap.
“Grandma never told me about a Stanley in her life,” she frowned. And here she thought she knew everything about her Grandma’s life. “From what I understood she had no other lovers besides Grandpa. Grandpa…”
In a panic, Maureen jumped up from the sofa, dropping poor Maya, and raced up the stairs to a wall where a collage of old pictures hung.
She found the picture of her Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day and began pulling it out of the frame, hoping to find a date written on the back. There was. It was dated January 8th, two weeks following the time Stanley wrote the proposal Christmas card. Maureen’s brow furrowed again. “Why would Grandma marry Grandpa if she was clearly in love with this Stanley guy? And he her?” she asked Maya, who just caught up with her at the top of the stairs.
Her immediate thought was that Stanley had been killed shortly after writing the card, but with how deeply she sensed the two were in love there’s no way her Grandma would’ve gotten over him that quickly. Never receiving the card aside, that was just too short of an amount of time to meet, fall in love with, and marry her Grandpa! Had she been dating both men at the same time? Was some kind of an affair going on? She gasped at the thought. That certainly wasn’t something her refined Grandmother would do!
“Something’s not right here,” she said, her eyes darting this way and that and lowering as her imagination began running wild with even more speculative scenarios.
“No!” she cried out, stopping them. She then drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves. “There’s no point in speculating, I need to find out the facts! I’ve gotta call my mom. She’s bound to know something!” Maya simply looked up at her and meowed.
Maureen frantically dialed her mom’s phone number, praying she had some answers. A great mystery had just landed in her lap, involving a woman she loved and admired her entire life, and maybe the situation was not what she feared. Either way she HAD to find out everything she could about this Stanley guy, starting with his last name!
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Author's Note: I can't take all the credit for most of the words in Stanley's card as I used an online WWII letter as an example, but of course I changed things around a bit to sound more Christmasy. 😉 So thanks goes to the random soldier who wrote those words so many years ago to his love. 💗
