After a long day of shooting and patrolling,
Tired, sore and hungry,
You get back to mess hall and sit down to the same old chow.
But this time they yell your name because you got mail.
Mail.
Mail from home.
A letter would be great. A letter is always great.
Some get boxes. Some get packages. Some get smelly letters.
You haven’t gotten much lately because everybody back home has been busy.
They haven’t forgotten about you of course,
E-mail is just more prevalent.
You’ve read the magazines that your mom sent a couple months ago.
Everybody's read them at least 10 times.
You know them by heart.
One of the guys ripped out all the baby pictures.
He's got a new baby back home.
The guys call your name again.
You snap out of it and run up to get your letter.
But it’s not a letter.
It’s a small box.
You’re shocked.
People around you hoop and holler.
When people get mail it’s always exciting.
You look at the address.
Must be a mistake.
But no, your name is there.
No handwriting yet because it’s all been printed.
You feel your heart beating faster.
You forget your sore feet.
You forget your hurting back.
You race back to your table where you can be in relative privacy.
Your chow is getting cold.
But that’s ok.
You rip the box open.
You pull out a stiff book like object out from inside the box.
On the cover makes you heart pound.
It’s your little boy.
But, what… How … What…
You open the book.
The pages are full color.
On every page is a family member.
Each family member is holding up a sign on each page.
There is even a page of all the people at church with a sign.
Each sign says: “Come back soon.”
Now your chow is cold.
You recognize each person in every photo on every page.
You’re in the military so you don’t cry.
But what a surprise and what a wonderful almost unspeakable gift.
