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Lawfully Gifted Page 2
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Dear Lily,
Please thank your kind parents for the Twinkies. The entire barracks all enjoyed a bite, including my K-9 dog. She’s a German Shepherd named Radar and is seven years old.
John nearly wadded the informal basic letter up and threw it away. It sounded like he was talking to a two-year-old. The letter hadn’t sounded like a child wrote it – it sounded like it belonged to a dreamer. A person with imagination and kindness in their heart. They called them heroes, but what was that? Simply doing your duty didn’t make him feel like anyone’s hero. It made him feel grateful to be alive.
Your letter spoke to me and made me think of my home. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back there, and I could practically smell the flowers you described. The Twinkies were awesome and there is no other way to put it. I admit, I did tease a few of the guys because we get so little mail, much less extravagant gifts like that. It was truly appreciated greatly - even if it was banged up a bit. It didn’t affect the taste and I forgot how much I loved sweets. I could use a few of the good dreams you mentioned … and your snack cakes might do the trick.
Take care and God bless you as well,
CPO John Griffin & Radar
He surprised himself and sketched a paw print at the bottom of the letter to mimic Radar’s own signature. He hadn’t drawn anything in years simply because there was nothing really to show. He couldn’t draw the weapons and frankly didn’t want to, nor did he want to draw photos of the rocky hillside. Feeling silly, he quickly folded up the letter and sealed it in the envelope before anyone could read it. If they had, he would never hear the end of the ribbing at his words. He hoped he conveyed how grateful he was to the kid for the brief light that reached his soul.
3
May 2015
Tyler, Texas
“Class, we got a few letters in!” Lily announced excitedly. They’d been trickling in for about a week now and she was thrilled with the response. She noticed that it was taking approximately three weeks for the letters to arrive and return, which seemed almost shocking considering how fast things could come and go in the mail. Last time she’d done letters to the military, they’d only received back a handful. She knew now that she got a better response with the self-addressed stamped envelopes. She could only picture that it might be tough to get the correct postage overseas, or at least that is what she told herself to keep from getting upset at the lack of response. One of the retired navy wives had promptly crushed her theory in the teachers’ lounge one day, telling her that the carriers and all the ships had post offices.
So much for that idea, she’d mused, and that was when the idea had hit her. She’d do as much work for them as possible- so all they had to do was reply. It seemed to be working too, since they had almost fifteen responses this year. She flipped through the letters and spotted one addressed to her. Tossing it on her desk just like she did with mail at home, she thought of the cakes and hoped whoever it was had enjoyed them as much as she did. She handed out each letter and asked the student to stand up and read it, so they could share with the rest of the class.
Dear Tommy,
I appreciate you sending me a letter and writing to us. We are very proud to be serving our country and hope someday that you might choose to represent the U.S. as well. Today was a very good day because I got to split a Hostess cake with one of my bunkmates. I almost had to pay $20 dollars for it, can you believe that?
“What?” Lily blurted out, horrified, turning from the blackboard she’d been erasing the day’s notes from. “No, it doesn’t say that- does it?”
Tommy Crenshaw looked at her in surprise and repeated the line verbatim. Several of the children began to laugh as he continued to read, telling them all of how they cut up the cakes into little pieces, and each got to enjoy a bite. She felt a little better then, but was still shocked that whoever had gotten her treat had almost sold them off at an exorbitant price! She couldn’t wait to read her letter now to see if he (or she) actually admitted doing so. Maybe she’d write back and tell them about sharing, or simply manners and how the gift was intended to bring happiness, not a profit.
He finished reading the letter aloud and several other children took their turn, yet only one other mentioned the treat. Out of fifteen letters, two had talked about the care package she’d sent. Perhaps the others didn’t get any? What a shame, she thought sadly. Everyone should enjoy a piece of heaven once in a while; she certainly indulged! Maybe she would send a few more boxes so that way they didn’t have to rip off each other financially for a glimpse of home.
The day wore on and Lily fought to ignore her own letter on the desk. She had briefly thought of reading it aloud, but until she opened it to see what was said – she simply wasn’t sure it was a good idea without proofreading. Obviously, her gift had reached a few men and she was glad of it.
The lunch bell rang, and they filed out towards the cafeteria, her class of fourth graders filing neatly behind her. She liked that about the elementary; they encouraged order and thinking of others. Next week they were participating in an event to replant saplings along the edge of the school yard to form natural fencing some years from now. That and a water balloon fight would wrap up the semester nicely.
She liked this age because it was uncomplicated happiness. It was the simple things that brought joy or aggravation without being burdened with hormone horror stories. They were on the cusp and she got to enjoy the children before shuffling them to another unsuspecting teacher next year. She chuckled to herself at the thought and thanked God again for guiding her here, where she fit in.
Things were starting to get down to crunch time for her. The school year was wrapping up and she had a massive stack of papers to grade. Her excel file had frozen, losing precious data that she had thankfully backed up. She’d retrieved most of it, but had to manually redo the formulas in order for it to process the percentages on the scoring. Tests weighed heavily in the class, balancing the scale between participation grades and homework. She’d jumped at the chance of keeping it on the computer, rather than lugging her grading booklet around. It used to be a White-Out disaster of epic proportions.
As she worked through the afternoon’s papers, Lily glanced up to see that it was nearing five pm. She’d made progress on the stack and would finish it, hopefully before the weekend. Gathering up her things, she dropped her purse on the desk and fished for her car keys, spying the envelope poking out from the graded papers that were face down on her desk. She’d almost forgotten it! Sitting down, she tore open the envelope and smiled in surprise at the ink rendering she spotted.
A sweet paw print.
Immediately, she found herself smiling happily as she started the letter and then frowned. Parents? He asked to thank her parents for the Twinkies? Did he think she was a student? How funny!
The letter touched her. She could practically sense the wistfulness and longing for nature. She couldn’t imagine how different of a land Afghanistan was from here. She’d seen pictures online or on the news and it looked simply raw and brutal. She was glad she’d sent the snack cakes to him – and that he admitted teasing a few of his team mates. That was the intention, to bring a spot of joy to their day. She thought it was particularly neat that he had a K-9 dog and loved shepherds. She’d had one growing up as a child and remembered how loyal and intelligent they were. Yes, she would read the letter to the class – and she decided to also write back, surprising herself.
Lily stopped at the grocery on her way home, inspired. The box had been crushed in the mail, yet the cakes were edible, so she was on the right track. The key was to find things that were unperishable, undamageable, and wanted. She picked up a few goodies as well as a few necessities, not knowing if they could get them out there easily. She pictured herself away from everything and thought, what would I want?
She’d want fancy, smelly, pretty stuff. Some pink gel pens that glided easily and lovely stationary. Maybe a drawing pad, since he obviously was gifted and lik
ed to draw. She’d been sincerely impressed with the skill she’d seen and the detail. He’d even gone as far as to use hatch marks to create shading. Picking up a roll of bubble wrap, she grinned. Her gifts would arrive unharmed this time, no doubt.
Part of her inspiration for doing this came from her friend, Sherry, who’d passed away unexpectedly. It had been traumatizing to lose the friend and mentor she’d looked up to. That was one thing that ate at her and pushed her to be a better person: Sherry cared to the bottom of her heart. She had never met a stranger, nor felt skittish about giving. She would bring in home-cooked dishes to the breakroom and expected everyone to eat from it. If school supplies were on sale, she would pick up several and leave them in the mailboxes in the lounge, with no expectation of return. Lily missed her terribly, and the kindness that just blossomed from being around her, so now it was her turn to take up the mantle.
What would Sherry do?
She would make another care package and continue bringing hope and happiness to others. Picking up packing tape and several packages of gum, she stopped mid-stride and headed to the health and beauty-aid aisle. She’d want smelly, happy stuff and shook her head at the silly thought. This was a guy and his dog. Snapping her fingers happily, she pushed her cart over towards the pet aisle and picked up a chew toy, as well as a dog bone. She looked down at her cart and giggled. It would look like Christmas when the box arrived.
Paying, she hurried home and began carefully packing the box. It was approximately a foot tall and a foot wide, crammed to the very top, full of different things. She got out a piece of stationary and sat down to write a letter to him.
Mr. Griffin and Radar,
I truly enjoyed your letter and drawing. It almost looked like your shepherd signed the paper himself, I was so impressed. I am glad you and your friends enjoyed the Twinkies – they are a favorite of mine. I am a teacher at the elementary school that sent the letters out, so I will accept your thanks as well as pass on your story to my parents and my students. Perhaps you can use the drawing pencils and pad to hone your skills drawing. You truly have a gift for it. I hope you can use a few of the items, if not, please distribute them out and know that we all pray for your continued safety back in the States. Is there anything you particularly need or would like? You mentioned greenery from home, so I’ve included a few things that made me think of trees. I’ve enjoyed your letter and it brought a smile to a dull day.
Thank you again- and be safe.
Lily
P.S. I’ve included some postage for you as well as paper/envelopes in hopes that we might continue our correspondence. God bless.
Smiling, she sealed it inside and labeled the box. It seemed so odd to write down the address to Afghanistan and found herself checking the return portion of the envelope several times to make sure it was correct. Taping it carefully, she grinned, satisfied with herself, and realized this had been the most she’d had to look forward to in a while that didn’t have to do with school work or working in the yard to make it more habitable. Even though it was dark out now and getting late, she got back into the car and drove out to the post office, using the self-serve kiosk to mail the package immediately.
4
June 2015
Ghazni, Afghanistan
John stood near the table under the tent awning. They were planning to head into the hills tomorrow to sweep for more mines. There had been an insurgence last week and several threats against them, making him extremely uneasy. It was times like these that made him think about his future and what he was going to do with it. He was thirty-eight and while he felt older than his years, he also realized that he still had time to begin again – as scary as it seemed.
“Griffin! When you finish, they need you in berthing,” a head peeked in the tent, interrupting him and several other officers. Cooper had arrived here last month and was green as the day was long. That was one thing that some kids had a hard time learning, when to wait their turn. He shook his head frowning because young, hot-headed bucks could get killed rushing into things or advancing before it was safe. Stupid fool.
“Is it an emergency?”
“Naw, but me and the guys –“
“Then you need to wait, like I’ve told you before,” John snapped and turned back to the map. There were caves and trails throughout the hills that were being used for munitions and hiding. He would be haunted if he led a bunch of young, naïve fools like Cooper to their deaths. The boy was probably still wet behind the ears with a high school sweetheart at home, promising to wait on him. Good luck with that, he thought bitterly, tinged with envy and sadness.
“Here and here, so we don’t get pinned down,” John suggested, pointing at the ridge just off to the left of the map. “We can sweep West to East and hold it with far less resistance or chance of casualties. If we go in here, there is too many civilians close by. I don’t want to risk my men nor anyone else.”
After several moments, it was agreed and radioed to the other unit on the far side of Ghanzi. Friendly fire was a real threat when you were scared and aiming at a shadow from a distance. They were Seals and deadly with a gun. He heard the crackle of acknowledgment and coordinates, nodding to confirm. They would head out in the morning first thing.
Cover of darkness was a myth and only worked if you were on home territory, or so he believed. He’d rather have a shot at seeing his targets than to be caught by surprise. Perhaps if they had more night vision goggles or equipment it wouldn’t be so bad, but the last drop had been shot down by missiles and intercepted. The enemy had the precious goggles, making them even more dangerous than before.
Exiting the tent into the bright sunlight, he slipped his sunglasses back on and pulled a cap low on his head. The sun beat down hard on them, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t so sad about the tan lines they’d all developed over time. His shoulders, arms and chest were extremely dark, but his feet were nearly milk white inside his shoes. The glare from his pale skin was near about as bright as the sun overhead.
He stopped at the medical tent to get some aspirin for a raging headache he was developing. The stress and strain were getting to him. Booze was available but with his outing tomorrow, he’d not touch the stuff, and try to find another way to unwind. Perhaps he’d lie in his bunk with a rag over his eyes and try to focus on a well-deserved vacation.
Maybe the warm salty breeze of the gulf coast with the ocean breaking in the distance. Perhaps the Deep South, where old oak trees that were hundreds of years old stretched across the grass. Limbs dripping with Spanish moss that made you yearn for a hammock and a tall glass of iced lemonade from the humidity in the air. Maybe he’d visit Seattle on his next leave?
Cooper was from there and had done nothing but yammer repeatedly about how cool it was there versus the rainy season back home. He said there was moss everywhere and it set his imagination alive. He could picture lichens, ferns, and a stunning emerald forest that came alive with vegetation and wildlife. He wasn’t sure if it was accurate or not, but it was his dreams – they could be whatever he wanted. John noticed as he left the tent, that he was getting stared at strangely.
“What?” he barked, stopping to look himself over. Did he have a sign on his back or toilet paper trailing from his shoes? Men were looking at him almost curiously with a smirk on their faces. If he had marker on his face like Cash had when he first arrived, he’d beat the culprit to a pulp and teach the others to leave him alone.
“C’mon Radar,” he whistled and patted his leg. Radar fell in line beside him like clockwork. “Why can’t more people be like you? You don’t question, you don’t talk back,” he muttered, ruffling the dog’s head affectionately as he strode towards his bunk space. As he stepped inside, the dry heat hit him, along with a faint whiff of rancidity.
“Deodorant is a necessity, boys - Use it. It’s too hot here for you ‘ladies’ to go without,” he muttered, letting the door drop behind him. Instead of snide comments at his remarks, he was surpris
ed to hear a few catcalls and whistles.
“Got a little something sweet on the side there?”
“Ol’ man’s got a little missus back home waiting for him!”
“Is it your birthday? Who gets to do the honors for the spankings?”
“Got yourself a lady friend, Griff?”
“What are you morons prattling on about?” He asked and then saw it sitting there on his bunk in the corner. A large box was being eyed by every man that shared his tent. Apparently, several had already inspected it over because as he got closer, he saw Lily’s name in the corner.
“Well, I’ll be…” he breathed in surprise and felt himself smile in anticipation. The kid that sent the Twinkies had written him back. Radar sat beside him, her tail wagging happily before barking. John immediately stopped and looked at his dog in confusion and concern. It was a happy bark, not an alert.
“What?” he said playfully to his dog. “You think this is for you?” A loud answering bark quickly followed. She danced about in a circle and put her paw on his leg, making him laugh. “C’mon up here,” he ordered, patting on his bunk. You could have heard a pin drop behind him, making his conscious twinge. Maybe he was too rough on the guys because they were acting like he was a monster.
“It’s from the kid,” he announced suddenly, surprising himself. “You guys want to see if she sent more Twinkies?” John grinned. He was quickly surrounded as he whipped out his pocket knife and delicately cut through the tape. Opening the box, he saw the envelope on top and immediately tucked it in his shirt pocket. He heard the groans of envy and glanced down in the box.