Letters…….

Letters….

A teaser from my upcoming short story…

Sitting on her porch with hands trembling, she clutched the letters.  Holding them close 

to her heart, huddled in a ball, she rocked her body back and forth, back and forth.   

Was she brave enough?  Could she handle these words in particular? 

"Words, always with the words!" 

Words were her achilles heel; she needed them. Her fix came from men, friends, or 
relatives; it didn't 

matter where she got them as long as she did.    

She NEEDED them to survive.  Like a needle direct to her 

vein, she manipulated, bargained, and chased after her addiction.  The insatiable hunger 

for words assuring her of her beauty, her worth, or intelligence was never satisfied; and 

when they were not offered freely,  she demanded them.  Usually, she could find 

them without too much trouble.  But the words from this person were different.  They 

scathed.  Laced with guilt and shame, they always wounded and never missed the bull’s 

eye to her heart.  She let them in so easily all of her life, and NOW, she had a choice.  

Would she to let them in?  How could what had always been insulting weapons 

against her soul be any different now?  Why did God wish her to read these letters now?

What other words could be spoken into her heart?   This choice  

was her’s and she should have felt empowerment, but she felt trepidation.  Permission 
had never been requested to speak before.  This is why she had not read these letters.  
She had the upper hand for a change.  She had control.  And now, in this moment, she 

wanted no part of controlling.  Control tactics had not served her well.  

“Oh God, do I dare?”  

A single tear trickled.  Just one was all she would allow. 

“Am I strong enough?”

“Daughter, I am strong in you” 

“I am with you” 

Reading the letters was a risk.

“Ok then.  If I must," she bravely resolved, and with fingers trembling, she unfolded the 

papers, and then practiced a round of deep breathing techniques she'd learned in yoga.  

Slowly scanning the words, a well of pent up tears overflowed.  A few times, she 

stopped and sobbed into her folded arms. Words that she had always longed to hear  

were now the rusty old key fitting perfectly into the locked recesses of her heart.  

Decades of damage received into her spirit  had sharply dug trenches in her heart

where tenderness had once lived.  Trenches now housed the numb, bitter, and thick 

scars.  But these words were a healing salve over her scars, and they would birth new 
living skin in their place. 

In these moments,  the years of rejection and adoptive spirits were completely washed 

away.  Years of anger and misunderstanding were diffused.   As she read the letter, she 

could hear her mothers voice and she had to stop periodically to release deep pools of 

buried pain.  So much emotion forced underneath;  Lies were planted so deeply 

in her heart.  

AND NOW to learn the truth?   

She was wanted.  

She was loved.  

She was not a burden after all.  

 My Dear Girl, 

From the very beginning, I've always chosen you but you've managed to convince 

yourself otherwise.  I was talked into putting you up for adoption because I was barely 

able to take care of myself.  How could I take care of you too? ……...