“I’d reached the end of the first page but didn’t turn it over. I sat motionless, as if I were listening very carefully to something, and I was, I suppose; for the little girl’s voice had drifted from the shoebox and was echoing now in the shadow-hung hollows of the room. I’m in the country now...they call him Daddy...there is a tower, and three sisters...
"Letters are special like that. Conversations waft away the moment they’ve been had, but the written word prevails. Those letters were little time travelers; fifty years they’d lain patiently in their box, waiting for me to find them.” Kate Morton, The Distant Hours
"Letters are special like that. Conversations waft away the moment they’ve been had, but the written word prevails. Those letters were little time travelers; fifty years they’d lain patiently in their box, waiting for me to find them.” Kate Morton, The Distant Hours
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Letters from a young mother who journeyed with a young child to the gold mining fields in California to join her husband and brother (before it was California), letters from a young newly-wed man serving in France in World War I, letters from a father and mother to their children - all these, and more, patiently wait in boxes - stories and voices of our family. These time travelers are treasures.
Image - letters written by my parents
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