Once upon a time, therewas a little girl who lived peacefully at home with her mother and siblings. Her father had gone to war, sending letters whenever he could.Every day this little girl would run to the mailbox and check it for his notes. Most of the time it was empty, but every now and again she would get lucky, finding a letter tucked inside. The envelope would be dirty, the bright white a smokey shade of gray and brown as if he had rubbed it in the dirt before he sent it.
Her father would fill her small mind with loving words. He would talk about how much he missed his family, and how it was rough where he was, but that he was alright and would come home as soon as he could.
He would talk about memories of their trips to the beach and how he couldn"t wait to be home with his family. He would tell his daughter that she needed to be good, that she needed to stay strong, and one day soon, he would show up on the doorstep, and give her the biggest hug she"d ever had.
That little girl waited, she waited and watched the driveway. She waited, stalking the window like a lonely puppy, just antic.i.p.ating that moment a car would pull up and her father would get out.
Only he never came.
His letters arrived less often, their messages scattered and confusing. The strong man she remembered had started to fear for his family, afraid that something was going to happen to them, warning them to be careful and not to trust anyone.
The girl couldn"t understand why he was so afraid, the war was so far away, there was no way it would ever reach them. Her mother had promised her that they were safe right where they were, and that no one would ever come to harm them.
She had told her that the war was between others, that it didn"t involve the innocent.
"We are the innocent, my little flower, no one wants to hurt us."
Then something changed. Her mother refused to talk about her father anymore and told her daughter that she wasn"t allowed to read anymore letters.
It was a horrible new rule the girl couldn"t understand. Her father was everything to her, it didn"t make sense why her mother would take the only connection the girl had to him. Those letters made her feel close to him, like their lives weren"t so far apart if she could see his words, knowing that his hands had touched the same paper she was holding.
Losing that, tore her apart inside.
One day, the young girl came home from school to find her mother standing in the kitchen with three suitcases. Her skin was white as a ghost, her eyes red and swollen as if she had been crying.
"Mom, what"s wrong? What"s going on?" she asked, dropping her backpack on the floor.
Sniffling, her mother softened her eyes in the same way she had when the family dog died and she had to break the news. "We need to leave, my flower, it"s time for us to go," she said, her voice almost a whisper.
The young girl peered up at her mother, tears of her own starting to bubble over her large, green eyes. She felt so confused and afraid about what was happening. Her mother looked so sad and lost the girl could feel that something wasn"t right.
"What about Dad?"
"Your father will find us, but we can"t stay here, it"s not safe." Her mother was clutching the girl"s little brother to her hip, and her younger sister was standing at her mother"s side, digging her thin nails into her leg. "I can"t explain it to you right now, you just have to trust me."
"But where will we go?"
"Away from here." Holding out her arm, she waved the little girl in. "Dad wants us to be safe, it"s not safe here anymore." Rubbing her back, she leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "He loves you and he will find us. There"s not a doubt in my mind about that."
"I want my dad," the girl cried, burying her face into her mother"s dress. "I don"t want to go, I just want my dad."
"I know my little flower, and he"ll be with us again, I just don"t know when." Patting her back, her mother pulled her away. "You need to be strong for your brother and sister—and for me. Can you be strong for me?" Sniffling, the girl wiped her fingers across her eyes and nodded. "Good, that"s good, it"s time to go. I want you to grab the blue suitcase and carry it to the car."
Holding in her tears, the girl took the handle in her hand and tugged the heavy suitcase towards the door. "Are we going to see Nana and Papa?"
"No, I"m sorry, we can"t, we need to go far far away." Walking behind her, her mother pushed her along, trying to pull the other two bags with her as she bobbled a child against her ribs. "And we won"t be able to call them either, we have to hide."