There
was a wooden box I knew.
It had belonged to my father, Thomas.
I cried before I could stop myself.
He used to keep important papers in it. But after he
died, I searched the house for it and never found it.
I looked at Jeffrey.
“Why do you have my father’s box?”
“Open it.”
My hands shook as I lifted the lid.
Inside were letters. My father’s letters. Years of them.
“Open it.”
Beneath the letters was a small ring box. I opened it.
Inside was a simple diamond ring. I looked at Jeffrey.
“You bought this?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
He nodded toward another envelope. That one had his name on it.
The handwriting
belonged to my father.
“You bought this?”
I unfolded the letter.
“Jeffrey,
Ruth will be accepted into a teaching program here. She has a real future ahead of her.
