Smiles held in the heart

Smiles held in the heart
Smiles held in the heart

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Train Travels in Europe

Train Travels In Europe

The girls and I went to Europe in 1990 to visit Jimmy was he was in Italy.  We landed in Frankfurt and stayed a few days with my brother and sister-in-law in Germany.

While there we traveled  overnight on the train to Paris.  German trains are clean and pretty comfortable for the most part.  No glitches at all and we spent the day walking the city and taking in all the tourist sites.  Shopping was expensive but we enjoyed looking.
The Parisian restaurant we ate at was very nice, too.  For a day trip it was fun but would have been better had we had a few days to explore the back side streets and local lifestyle.  

Leaving Frankfurt we traveled by train to Munich.  It was a treat to zip along the tracks and gaze out over the acres of sunflowers in the fields. Lunch in the dining car included white linens and a formal place setting complete with a flower ina bud vase.  What a nice added touch it lent to the experience.  The porter was courteous and smartly dressed in a uniform.

Munich's main train terminal is huge!  It has a large open area where all the trains arrive and depart.  There must be at least fifty tracks.  Overhead is a monstrous board that
has the trains final destination and time lit up. Trying to survey the board in another language you are not fluent in is harrowing. Especially since we had only moments to spare until our train left the station.  Of course our train was at the very last track!  We ran as fast as we could and made it in the nick of time.  We were on our way to Naples on the overnight train.  The vestibule was full of travelers and luggage.  Finally after a period of time the conductor guided us to our sleeping berths.  It was a tiny compartment with three stacked beds on the left side. There was an itty
bitty sink in the corner.  Bathrooms were at the end of the car.

Our luggage was old.  I chose an old one on purpose because I knew it would take a beating on the trip.  We had one large bag for all our clothes.  Not an easy feat traveling with preteen girls!  I felt comfortable making the trip overseas with them as I had lived in Germany as a teen and could still remember enough German to get by.

We settled down and I fell asleep immediately.  The girls were beat, too but stayed awake.  I remember waking up in a startle.  "Girrrrrrls, stop jumping on the bed! That was an impossibility since they were a triple bunk style without much headroom!  We were going through the mountain range and through tunnels so I suppose that is what woke me up.  They laugh at me to this day about that!

In the morning we were pulling into Rome.  Looking out the window I saw a city that hadn't changed much in the twenty years since I had last visited.  Old structures.  Massive congestion on the highways and a variety of bustling people on the sidewalk.
The station was a chaotic mass of people.  Some in a huge hurry and many yelling
to others for something in a multitude of languages. We stuck out like sore
thumbs!  I was finally able to get to the ticket window to secure our connection to
Naples.  It was supposed to be more fun than this!......cont'd

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Bivouac

Bivouac

Have you ever taken a long road trip with a military man?  It is more like going
on what they call bivouac.
Bivouac:( biv - wak) noun.  Meaning :
A military encampment made with tents or impoverished shelters, usually without shelter or protection from enemy fire.

Anyway, I always thought that was a funny word.  My mom on the other hand was the one that suffered.  My dad and the rest of us kids  took it all in stride and looked forward to the rustic adventures.

My first recollection of a bivouac was back in 1960.
Dad had just returned from Turkey where he was for a year.  I have a photo of him on a camel.  He is in his field uniform and holding a rifle.  The camel is loaded down with supplies.  A local man is leading the camel by rope out in a barren open terrain.   He is dressed in yards of loose fabric that wrap around his body several times then between the legs and then up over the shoulder.  He is also wearing a turban.  Dad was on bivouac for certain!

In comparison our bivouacs would seem like a luxury vacations!  

Dad started out changing the oil and checking the brakes on the station wagon.  It was new so was pretty nice for the times.  Sleek silver gray with red interior.  Big fins and a rear facing seat.  It was called "The Shark!"
 Next he would make sure there was a spare everything he might needed.  He stored these items under the folded down seats where there was some empty space.  String, Tools, rope, hatchet, small  foxhole shovel, nails, screws, large rubber bands made from cutting a bike inner tube.  You name it he had it stored in that car!

We were issued personal canteens to drink from.  Each one had a tag to ID
who's was who's.  Next there was a trip to the commissary.  Canned goods and some other nonperishables. There were cases of C-Rations which are now called MRE's ie: meals ready to eat.  They will always be C-rations to me.  Inside you had a small aluminum can opener.  It was about an inch long and the blade was sharp and folded in to store on a keychain.  I still have one.  This was indispensable!  Without it you couldn't open the can of brown bread.  You would have never had the hash or stew either.  Most boxes had chocolate.  The boxes we had were old so any chocolate was old, too. White around the edges and hard as a brick!  Some had cigarettes.  There was a small roll of flimsy toilet paper and matches.

Large paper grocery sacks for each day of the week went directly behind the back seat.  Rations then could easily be retrieved and passed up front to the Gedunk chef ie:  mom.

Duffle bags with our clothing stuffed inside went in next.  Every nook and crannie held something!

"All aboard!" he would announce when everything passed his inspection.
We would pile in.  The boys always won and got the window seats.  My sister
and I got the middle.  There were barf bags for the both of us.

Depending on where we were headed we knew we would be in that car for
at least an eight to ten hour drive. Bathroom breaks
were every three hours or so and not in between unless sick.
We entertained ourselves with car games and drawing pictures of some pretty
outrageous looking shoes we designed.  I think I have seen some of those styles lately!

Sometimes we would get an ice cream cone.  The kind that was soft served with a curly Q on top.  That was my sister's favorite way of getting my dad to stop by crying " Ceem Cone" for miles!

The smell of some substances still make my stomach turn.  One is gasoline and the other is tar.  Inevitably we would encounter both odors on a sweltering summer day.

The station wagon did not have air conditioning.  Going down the highway was fine on a hot, humid day.  But the moment we stopped the air was as heavy and stagnant as in a sauna.  Add the stink of gas or tar and I was using one of those puke bags!

Mountainous terrain takes driving skills not for the faint of heart.  First if all you can't ride the brakes because they will overheat.
Overheated brakes smell worse than gas or tar!  Besides they will wear out and you don't need them to fail at several thousand feet on a curvy narrow mountain road.  Hairpin turns required blowing the horn before the bend lest you be forced off the road and over a steep cliff.
Another thing, once on the mountain, get off before sunset or camp!

One time in the middle of the road on some mountain range my dad got sick.
He had malaria while a POW in WWII and this was a similar incident related to it.  He pulled over to the far edge of the road.  We had a tiny camper by then and he crawled inside and was sick as a dog for several days.  Mom did not drive and the rest of us were too young.  It was not a heavily traveled road.
Our bivouac experience was paying off and we all survived!

Once a camp spot was found we would unload.
"Yes, everything!"  Tents were pitched and shallow ditch dug around perimeter
in case of rain.  It always rained.  Load belongings into tents.  If still daylight, walk the area surrounding camp to become familiar. Designate where one should "go to the bathroom."
Help gather wood for a camp fire.  Open your designated C-Ration and eat.  Apply mosquito repellant.  Brush teeth.  Crawl into sleeping bag and don't move all night on the hard ground.  

In the morning help with the fire.  Eat a small amount of dry cereal or have an apple or boiled egg.
Boiled eggs travel well and often were cooked while driving using a heating element plugged into the cigarette lighter secured to a coffee can of water.
Mom was a master of many culinary skills like that while riding shotgun on these trips.  Many a sandwich was made and passed back to the hungry natives in the back seat.  She never once cut or burned herself.   She should have been awarded a medal for her valor under pressure and extraordinary circumstances.  While we zipped along the highway passing Stuckey's and Howard Johnson's, we were munching stale sandwiches, jerky and sleeping on the ground!  What a thrilling vacation for her!

In Europe we continued to flex our skills to meet the challenges of the country we were visiting.  Dad had decided by then that we could sleep in a bed at night.
We found some pretty nice places to stay and some that made us wonder where the hell we were.

The out houses in Europe were something I had never seen before.  Two block
platforms for your feet and an opening in the floor to aim for!  No thank you!

In Austria there was a cute chalet.  We revisited it every time we traveled from
Germany to Italy.  Mom called it Dr. Zhivago's Chalet.  It was so cozy and had huge feather comforters on the beds  and lace curtains on the windows.  Geraniums grew in the window boxes.  The view was stunning of the Austrian Alps with their snow capped tops.  The proprietors were friendly and the small village was picturesque. 

Another favorite was Waggital, Switzerland.  This town was at the top of the mountain range between Austria and Switzerland.
Coming down into the town from the mountain was like looking at the scenery from "The Sound of Music!"  I half expected to see Julie Andrews and the Von Trapp family at any moment.
There was a large lake in the center of the valley surrounded by the mountain range.  The steep hills extending up from the lake were emerald green and lush.  Herds of sheep and goats dotted the area. Lazy cows chewed their cud down at the water's edge.

At the far end of the valley a white steepled church chimed it's bells.

We stayed at a hotel as a special treat.  A small stream was across the street.  One could walk or drive around the lake.  We walked each evening.  There was a waterfall and the coldest, freshest water I have ever tasted.

To me I'd gladly sleep on the ground on a bivouac a whole year to be able to go back to Waggital, Switzerland for one night!

Portugal was another treasure.  There we were able to stay in a small flat.  It was complete with a pool just a short walk away.
Further down the winding path was a sheer rocky cliff to the ocean.  To the left of the cove you could see the crescent shaped beach.  Large waves broke upon it's shore.  Wild peacocks roamed among the underbrush at the cliff edge.

Further to the right was an area where the local fishermen brought their daily catch right to the shore.  We would be waiting early in the morning with newspapers and a grocery sack to take home fresh shrimp and fish to make for dinner that night.  Local women sold their hand embroidered linens.

There are no radio stations in English in the middle if Spain! The best we could do was Moroccan as we drove along in the triple digit weather!  It was that or listen to dad sing "Yes, We Have No Bananas!" "No, not that song again!"
Here again we found the unexpected retreat.   A small hotel along the coast of Barcelona.  My parents used it as a base for their daily drives to explore the area.  We hung out at the pool or ocean.  That year I endured the worst sunburn of my life but came home with tan bragging rights the like of which I have never had again.  I also had to put up with the car ride and someone next to me touching my sore arms because we had four of us in the back seat.  My cousin David made that trip with us when he was in the Army.  I remember a woman flirting with him and asking for his bottle of beer to rinse her hair!  Apparently that was supposed to help give it shine and body?  I think it was way for her to lure him.  He of course being a very cute, eligible young man gladly gave up his beer to spend some time with her!

The torsion bar broke on the way home from that trip.  We crawled along at  a slow speed until we got somewhere to get it fixed.  Big huge American station wagon parts are not readily available in the middle of the alps.  The remainder of the trip was miserable but we finally made it home going slow.

So, the next time someone suggests going on a bivouac, you better be ready for anything from a sleeping bag in a tent in the rain on the cold hard ground to a feather comforter in the pristine Swiss Alps!

Cathy Windham
3/20/13



Friday, March 29, 2013

The Red Dirt Road

The Red Dirt Road.

I drove along the interstate in southern Alabama.  For miles I looked at the same landscape.  Gentle swells of land green at the borders with wire grass and pines.  Large swatches of plowed ground revealed the brick red earth.

Rows of spent cotton branches in other fields hold echoes of those who picked the bolls by hand and placed them in burlap sacks slung over their hunched shoulders in the blistering heat.

Peanut fields flaunt their drying crop on the surface of the even rows. Large rolls of cut hay sit like huge golden roasted marshmallows on their sides.  The smell of the fresh cut grass intermingled with the green peanut aroma in the air makes me think of home.

Ponds on farmland reflect the sky and clouds.  
Livestock wander to the edge to drink.

A red dirt road runs parallel to the highway and then turns along the side of the field and between a canopy of trees.  Driving by I can see the road stretches straight ahead until the end looks  like the tip of a pencil in the distance.  My mind wanders to a time outside the present and down that red dirt
road.

Ancestors toiled this land.  Hands were taken in marriage and lives were taken at the shot of a gun.  Old fashioned ways were the rule of the land.  Homes were built with crude lumber and sweat from one's own brow.  Brooms swept red dirt yards.  Children played barefoot and skipped along the road to fish.  Grandmothers cooled pies in the pie chest.

Folks visited.  Sitting in the yard sipping sweet iced tea as they shelled fresh field peas and shucked corn.  Momma spent hours putting up fig preserves.  Pa Pa spit tobacco and picked up the fallen pecans from the yard.
Pick up trucks gathered with the tail gate down for a place to sit a while.  

The side porch holds a bed between the slat glass windows that open with the crank of a handle.  Sheer curtains billow with the breeze and a yellow chenille bedspread invites you to take a nap.

Books were coveted especially the Bible.  One sat on the bedside table on the doily.
A block  pattern quilt covered the mattress and the stripes on the pillow ticking could be seen through the thin cotton casing with embroidery on the edges.  A floral painted porcelain bowl and pitcher sit on the dresser.

In the hall hangs  a picture of Jesus.  His heart exposed on his chest and a halo over his head.  Another of a guardian angel watches over a small boy and girl walking along a footbridge.  Old photographs of family stare back through the curved glass of the oval frames.

A cast iron skillet sits on the stove.  A plate of fried cornbread  pones sit off to the side.
Leftovers from supper sit on the counter with a cloth over them for cover.  The kitchen is still hot from cooking and the warm evening air.  The dog sleeps on the front porch waiting for a hand out.

The talk quiets as the train passes interrupting the speaker.  All ears wait.

Walking around the yard is like a tour at Callaway Gardens.  Roses in the sun and purple and white phlox in he shade.  Black Eye Susans and day lilies line the fence.  A bird bath is empty.  Fire ants build a red dirt fortress.
Geraniums in pots on the porch and fern under the shade tree in the back yard.  The rope swing sits idle.

The storm cellar doors hold safety at a moments notice of a tornado threat.

I pull out a pencil and my pad of paper I carried outdoors and write what I feel and see and love about home.  A place I did not grow up in but where I will always belong.

The Homestead

A homestead is
There for all of us
It matters not who we are

Our minds travel back
To a simpler time
When we were afraid of things in the dark

As we age there comes a time 
when those memories
We hold dear
Come racing forward and
Remind us of home
And we know there was nothing to fear

Home embraces us with love from our past
Of this I'm certainly clear

A homestead is here
And will always will be near
To chase our demons 
Away from the dark 

by: Cathy Windham
in memory of Jimmy's Grandmother, Daisy Hicks.
Midland City, Al
3/9/2013

Thursday, March 28, 2013

The Bottle House #7. The Homecoming



"Son, you're going home!" the Lieutenant told Lee. "You are being shipped home in the morning so get your gear and follow me!" Lee quickly grabbed his crutches and his things and hobbled to keep up.

All the way home he thought of Molly and how fresh and pretty and inviting she would be to see again.  He couldn't wait to hold and kiss her and love her.
He could see her walking toward him in her wedding gown down the wooded path toward the little bottle house.  He would have the minister there to marry them with the sun shining through the colored glass and splashing onto her white gown.  He would buy a new suit and wear that pretty tie she gave him. Molly would laugh as she threw her wildflower bouquet in the air as he lifted her into his arms and kissed her.  It was so real a vision that when he opened his eyes he was pulling into the train station.  He couldn't believe it was just a dream. 

Lee stepped off the train at night and walked all the way home.  No one was there to greet him.  There was no way for others especially Molly to know.

Sunday arrived and Lee dressed in his suit and tied the blue tie around his neck .
He walked the short distance to the church and sat up front.

Molly and John arrived at the church late and took a pew at the back.  During the service the minister acknowledged a special person was present with them today and thanked Lee for his gallant war service and had him stand.

Molly and John sat there with their eyes and mouths
wide open as Lee turned and faced the congregation.  Lee stood there and held back tears as he saw Molly grab John's arm and start to cry as she rushed outside the church.  Lee followed her out to the cemetery.

Molly was sobbing and holding on to the angel standing guard over her grandmother's grave.  Lee approached her and gently put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him.  He lifted her chin with his hand and looked into her flooded dark eyes.  " Hi, Molly!  It's so good to see you!"
"I'm married, Lee.  John and I married just a few weeks ago. "I waited 
and waited on word from you.  I tried everything I could to find out if you were ok."
"Didn't you get my letters?  I wrote every day and then they began to be returned unopened.  I didn't know what to think!" she said through her sobs.  "I got them sweetheart.  I couldn't write very often and then when I was injured I wrote you every day that I could.  Didn't you get my letters? " he explained.  "No, I have not had any letters for six months!" Molly said still crying.  "Shhh, darling, it's alright" Lee told her in a whisper.  He held her out at arms length and offered her his handkerchief.  John came around the corner of the church and walked up to them.  He held out his hand and drew Lee in and embraced him.  "I'm proud to have you home safe, Lee!" "Well it's great to be back home that is for sure!"  "Congratulations on your marriage.  You have one beautiful wife!"  Lee said.

Lee Brown never married.  He lived out the remainder of his life on his farm.
Many  years later as an old man he got to know some new children who moved into a farmhouse on Howe Rd.
Mrs. Hewitt had five children.  She was there alone frequently while her husband was in the Army.  She needed some help from time to time with the place.  He let the kids George, Hans and Cathy come and play at his place.
He built them a real covered wagon after seeing that they had tried to make one themselves on the back of a wagon.  Lee enjoyed the kids running down to see him and play out in the woods in the bottle house he had made for Molly so many years ago.

The End

Cathy Windham
3/19/13

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Bottle House 6. WWI


June 1st arrived as a blistering hot day.  Molly and Lee stood on the train
station platform under the shade of the roof overhang.

They could see and hear the train approaching.  As it halted at the station a few people disembarked.  Lee held Molly close to him and kissed her one last kiss before hopping aboard.
He found his seat by the window and leaned out of it to touch her hand as the train slowly departed and whistled.   She blew him a kiss and waved until he was out of sight then turned and walked back home.

Molly decided to apply for a teaching assignment at the local school to help her pass the time while Lee was away.  

Lee prepared to leave for combat.  He ran into his friend John in Hampton. They wished each other well.  Lee told him that he and Molly were engaged to marry when he returned.
John slapped him on the back and said " You lucky son of a gun!  I always had the hots for that girl.  She sure is a beauty! Congratulations, Lee!"
They shook hands and headed in opposite directions.

Molly had a classroom of first grade students eager to learn.  They put their hands up in the air and waved their hands with excitement that they knew the answer to the question.
Molly was a natural with the kids and taught everything they needed to know about the alphabet and how to read and write.

While the students worked on their writing skills she penned long letters to Lee.

He finally had an opportunity to write her a brief letter and where she could write to him.  He promised to do the best he could under the circumstances of war.

Time passes slowly especially in the winter.
It was harsh and there was a lot of snow.  Molly managed to get to church whenever she could.  She prayed for Lee's safe return frequently.  She volunteered for a committee that helped war brides with their children and did some things for these ladies to help them in their homes.  She cooked and cleaned and ran errands.  Mostly she just listened to their fears and concerns.  She comforted them when they cried with the news their husband wasn't coming home.  That was the hardest part.  She loved Lee and couldn't imagine a loss like that and juggling so much responsibility.  She secretly thanked Lee that he had spared her of this burden.  It was hard enough being a fiancé.

Lee would receive a bundle of letters from Molly.  She had numbered them to help him keep them in order. It really lifted his spirits to read them and see her pretty penmanship.  He printed his letters in large bold letters with a pencil he kept sharp with his pocket knife.

Molly checked the mail frequently but came home empty handed time and again.

One night the next year she saw John in town.  He was not in uniform and was
missing his left arm.  His shirt was pinned up so it wouldn't flap.  He explained the war injury and his discharge from the Army as a result.  He was currently working at the bank.  "Come to dinner with me.  I'm on my way now." he told her.  Molly accepted as she had not eaten all day.
John held out the chair for her as she smoothed her skirt under her.
They caught each other up since last they met and about Lee.  Molly had no word from him in the last six months and letters she had sent were returned unopened.
Molly was getting worried something terribly wrong had  happened to Lee.
John told her to read the paper daily to see if he was listed as killed or missing in action.  She had been doing that already.  Next he told her to write the War Department to inquire of his status.  But because she was not his wife or relative they may not disclose that information.  Molly's heart was sinking.  Maybe Lee just does not love me she thought.

Month after month there was no word from Lee and Molly stopped writing.

John came by and picked her up for church every Sunday.  They did things together when they were not working.  Laughing and walking arm in arm down the street.  "Marry me, Molly! Let's elope right now.  I love you and always have!"
Molly heard herself saying "yes" before she could stop herself.  They walked to the courthouse and were married that afternoon.

Lee sat in an infirmary with a gunshot wound to his leg.
He had passed out from blood loss and walking miles with it bound to help control the bleeding until he could get medical attention.  He had the bullet removed but the wound became badly infected.
More surgery on the leg left a large hole on his thigh.  He asked for something to write Molly a letter with.
He thought they were being sent but instead they were crumpled up and thrown in the fire by the local courier who was supposed to get the letters to the airstrip for transport home.
Molly was constantly on his mind.  It tortured him not hearing from her as he had at the beginning.  Months passed and no word.  He must get her out of his mind and accept that she did not wait.  "No, I can't think that!"

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Bottle House #5


After church Lee announced that he wanted Molly to see his farm.  Before that he never wanted her to see it because he had let  it run down.  But since meeting her he had taken the extra effort to clean and paint and tidy it up for her arrival.

They walked in the opposite direction toward his place which was at the end of Howe Rd.  Wild flowers were in bloom along the edge of the road.  Long rows of corn stalks were beginning to grow.  A few chickens were out in the yard as they walked up to the house.  Molly stopped at the tire swing hanging from a branch in the walnut tree.  Lee gently pushed her as she swung toward him.
"Come with me." he told her and took her hand.

Together they walked to the edge of the yard and followed a little path into the woods.  They stepped over the small creek and up the small hill to the clearing.
Before the crest of the hill Lee said " Close your eyes and let me help you.  No peeking!"  Molly did as she was told.  

Turning her around with her back to the house he told her to open her eyes and slowly turn around.

As she turned she noticed  light shining through the colored glass.  " Oh, Lee, it is beautiful!   Did you build this?"  "Yes, I built it for you!" he told her.
" It's even more beautiful from the inside!" he exclaimed.  Lee entered and extended his hand to help Molly inside.  She turned all the way around and had her hands up to her mouth smiling.  "Happy Birthday, Molly!"  He  bent down onto one knee. and pulled out the velvet box from his jacket and opened it.  The diamond sparkled along with the colored glass bottles in a prism that reflected onto the wall.
"Will you marry me, Molly Holmes?"  "Yes!" Molly told him excitedly.  The ring slipped easily onto her finger and he kissed it before standing up and embracing her and planting a long kiss on her lips.  

Molly looked down at her hand at arms length.  The ring was brilliant.  How in the world did he get the size correct?  When she asked him he told her he had kept the small twisted grass  strand she had wrapped around her finger when they were picnicking.

"When should we marry, Lee?  I want it to be soon don't you?  Maybe September would be nice." "I'll marry you right here today!" Lee said.  They embraced and kissed.

A light rain began to fall as they approached the house.
Lee gathered a few logs and they went inside and made a fire.  Sitting close
they made plans for their future living in that house.

Molly was busy planning her wedding with Lee.  She wrote to her aunt to announce their engagement.  She doodled on paper how she wanted to
wear her hair and surveyed her home for things she might sell or take to the big house.

Lee worked in the fields and
cleaned up each evening to go see Molly.  They enjoyed
each others company so much.  One evening in town they met a friend of Lee's.
His name was John.  John had gone away to college in Charleston at The Citadel.  He was wearing a Army uniform that showed he earned the rank of Lieutenant.
John told Lee all about the military and the college he had attended.  As John left them and joined some other friends Lee wondered what it would have been like to go into the military like John had done.  He wasn't sure that lifestyle would have agreed with him.  He did not enjoy killing anything.  He did hunt occasionally but preferred to just be out in nature and marveling at the beauty.

The mail was delivered weekly to a mailbox located at the end of Howe Rd.  Lee would collect it on his walk to visit Molly.  On this particular day there was only one envelope and it looked very official.  He decided to wait until arriving at Molly's to open it.

It was a small envelope and there was a return address from Washington, D.C.  Slowly Lee pulled out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it with Molly looking over his shoulder.

Dear Lee Brown:

You are  instructed to report to Hampton, VA for duty in the US
Army on Monday June 1, 1917.

Respectfully,
Colonel Hawks 

US Army
Headquarters
Washington, DC

Molly immediately began to cry as Lee slammed his fist down on the kitchen table.

"Let's get married right away!" she told him.  "No, Molly, that is not fair to you or I.  I can't go off to the Army and leave a wife with all the responsibilities at the farm."  I'll see if I can get someone to tend to things there while I'm gone.  It will only be for a year or two at the most and as soon as I return we'll get married.  Will you wait for me, Molly?"  They buried their heads in each others shoulders and cried.  He picked her up into his arms
and sat down on the couch with her in his arms.  Slowly they comforted each other.

The sun had set and it grew dark in the room.  Lee stood 
up and led Molly to the bedroom.  They fell asleep in each others arms.

In the morning Lee looked at Molly still sleeping.
Her tangle of dark hair across her shoulders.  He gently leaned over and kissed her forehead.  She opened her eyes and smiled.

"I must go" Lee told her softly.  He rose and dressed.  Molly watched
him and then pulled the sheet up over her head and sobbed.