“Rise and shine!” sang Gracie gently as she poured half a glass of ice-cold water, fresh from the brook around the back of the little blue house, directly over her twin sister’s face.
“GAAGGGHHHHH!” screamed Alex, springing from the bed and tripping over Gracie’s scarlet-slippered foot. Sprawled on the old wooden floor, Alex mumbled, “Meanie.” Gracie laughed, her ladylike tinkle harmonizing with the early morning calls of the birds.
That was when Mama’s excited voice shouted up from the kitchen, “Girls! It’s a letter from Father!”
Startled, the twins’ heads snapped to the open doorway, and they both rushed down the stairs, the wood creaking dangerously. They burst into the cozy kitchen, a rather comical sight. Alex, in bare feet, was breathing hard, her light curls dripping onto the floor. Gracie was wet all down her front, and still holding an empty glass of water, the remainder of which had spilled all over her nightgown when she ran downstairs.
“Let me see it! What does it say?” queried Alex, running over to her mother’s side. Gracie approached slowly, watching her mother and sister read the letter. She was afraid of what it would say; she almost didn’t want to know. Finally, Alex took the letter from Mama and began to read. Gracie caught her breath. Alex was frowning deeply as her clear, strong voice rang out:
“Dear Annie, Alex, and Gracie,” Alex paused, taking a deep breath, “We are camping still, here at Corinth. Two of my fellow lieutenants were killed during this battle. No one really thinks anybody won it; the soldiers are losing hope. We are running low on food, and we are weak. We cannot possibly win this war, so I am sorry to say I have no choice but to resign. I will see you soon! Love, Father.”
Alex’s blue eyes were filled with anger. “How could he? How could they give up when they have not lost yet?” She slammed the note down on the table. The teenage girl had not cried since their father had gone away for the war, but it was then that she once again succumbed to tears.
“Alex…” said Gracie and Annie at the same time. But Alex had already stormed up the stairs, long legs leading her, of all places, to her desk. Taking up a pen, she dipped it and wrote:
Dear Father:
How could you lose hope? How dare you betray your little daughter? How
A tear dropped onto the paper. Alex had to calm down before she could write more. Deep breaths. Her thoughts turned to that day, five years ago, when her father had taught her a lesson about teasing.
“Be courageous, my little warrior. Don’t let them get to you…”
That was it! Alex crumpled up the previous page with a crackling sound and threw it haphazardly on to the floor. Gracie would have scolded her immediately had she been there, but Alex was already scribbling away on a fresh piece of paper.
Dear Father:
I will not let you give in to the hopelessness of the war. When you signed up for this, you knew it would have its hardships! Father, do you remember that day years ago, when I was being harassed? Well, you told me something that day I’ll never forget, “Be courageous, my little warrior. Don’t let them get to you. None of what they say is true.” I think you need to listen to yourself, Father. Never give up! And if you do, then I swear I will come right up there beside you, no matter what anyone says. Please, Father, you can’t give in now!
Love, Alex
Slowly, Alex set down her pen and reread the letter. She meant clearly what she said, and she knew her father would recognize that.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Hamilton sat in the kitchen, writing a meaningless letter asking about conditions, and, yes, the weather.
Gracie worried for her Mr. Hamilton.
Alex drew out her old, rusty sword, and began to prepare for departure.
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