CORKY, PEGGY AND THE GOLDFINCH

“As I recall, you are a girl with spunk and determination. When you were just a baby, your dad was already calling you a feisty rascal. But I couldn’t love you one iota more if you were my own child. You deserve, and you should get, the very best from life. But bear in mind Peggy, that your life can never be complete without God. His hand is there for the taking. Hold it tight and keep Him with you throughout your days.

Be kind to your mom and dad. Listen to their advice, and love them, as they love you. Obey all of God’s commandments, but remember especially to ‘Honour thy father and thy mother.’ Apostle Paul, in his message to the children of the city of Ephesus, said:

‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord: For this is right.’

Do this Peg, and instil in your own future children, respect and love for God, parent and mankind.

I love you Peg O’ My Heart. I love you as I love your mother and father, your wonderful parents. It was not for me to know where you are at this moment when you read these words I write to you from a far away place in Italy. But know in your very heart Peg, my love is there with you now. It is too strong to die.

I know it seems that the relentless flow of time strives always to rob us of cherished memories. But remember, my Peg, and please remember it well, that memories are a part of one’s life. It is only by recalling our good memories that we can better endure those moments when we are beset with so many of life’s trials and tribulations. Safeguard the good ones, learn from the others.

You have a lifetime ahead of you, dear. So, get on with it. Enjoy it. My one final request is that you keep me in the cherished part of your memories.

Your “Unky Jack”, forever!

P.S. Maybe one more time we can say together our own special little poem:”

It was at this point that Peggy broke down and wept. I continued to hold her tight while she sobbed unabashedly for a least a whole minute. I suggested,  “Peggy … listen, why don’t we read the rest of it out loud together? ‘Cause you can’t read it very good by yourself if you’re cryin’ … right?”

She nodded her head in agreement and then placed her teary cheek alongside mine. Slowly, we began to read the simple poem at the bottom of Uncle Jack’s letter:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,

To count my blessings, instead of sheep,

And when I see the morning light,

I know God’s up there to keep things right.

I give you a kiss with my fingertips to your forehead. Goodnight my sweet Princess X X O O”

Peggy didn’t make it past the first two lines before she was wracked with sobs. I read the final two lines, although my own eyes were welling up with “sympathetic” tears. I fought hard to hold them back. Peggy needed some strength beside her, not an emotional blubberer. I tried to console her:

“Your uncle has been dead for a long time already Peg! But it makes no difference, ‘cause you now have these letters … and the ones your mom and dad have to help you always remember him! He wants you to keep him in the cherished part of your memory. Isn’t that what it says a little ways back, ay Peg? C’mon, you gotta stop cryin’. It makes me sad too … you know!”

Perhaps I didn’t use the right choice of words. Peggy bawled her eyes out even harder than before. I passed her my handkerchief that I had been carrying in the pocket of my Eisenhower (I was prone to sniffles and sneezes due to mild hay fever, and was seldom without a handkerchief).

“Here Peg, use my hanky, it’s clean! Uh … don’t ya sort of think your Uncle Jack wants you to be happy right now … ay?”

Peggy dabbed the tears from her eyes, inhaled deeply then gave her nose a good honking blow. With a slightly quaking voice, she sa