Sylvia held the letter to her chest, and held her breath. Trying to force the tears back into her eyes. She felt she would wither up and blow away if one more teardrop fell this afternoon.

Her old knees were aching from being on the floor for so long but she refused to move. She sniffled and started to breathe again. The tears didn’t flow and she let her shaking hands move away from her chest. She looked down at the yellowed paper again.

Carefully, Sylvia folded and placed it gently back into its place within the Bible. She flipped to the back pages to the family history to see the date of death for daddy.

There, in Clara’s flowery script was written, Luther Hamilton Parker, Died October 27, 1917. Sylvia sighed. Luther hadn’t made it through winter like he thought. Sylvia could barely remember his death.

Mama had made Sylvia a black dress, and even bought her a pair of fancy shoes, that fit. Mama had cried everynight until Sylvia turned thirteen. Then Mama joined Luther in the family plot.