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Authors: Chautona Havig
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marvelous vacation; it was truly more wonderful than I could have ever imagined, for which I am truly thankful.
Oh, and please ask little Miss IM-Patience to write me; you know I’d love to hear from her. Since Lane is incapable of taking over my job, I would assume she might have time to write as well. Of course, I’d love to hear from all of you, but I know you have a busy life so if you can’t or don’t care to respond, I will understand.
Matt— the honorary shepherd
~*~*~*~
Patience sat at the living room window, staring down the driveway. She’d moped around the house for the past two hours, and Lane was ready to tear her hair out in frustration. “Patience, I have an idea. Why don’t we write him letters? If we drive them to the Post Office, they might be there when he gets home from work Monday.”
That’s all it took. Patience raced for her notebook and pencil. Before Lane could leave the room to retrieve her stationary, Patience had “ Dear Matt, ” written at the top of her paper.
They scribbled on their respective sheets of paper for some time, Lane’s backhanded script contrasting with Patience’s carefully slanted cursive. Once finished, Patience painstakingly addressed her envelope, raced to the office for a stamp, and then scrambled down the steps and into the Jeep to wait for Lane. Shaking her head as she followed, Lane wondered how one man could make such an impact on them in such a short time.
~*~*~*~
Lane calculated well. Matt dragged through the door just after six on Monday night, tired, dirty, and hungry. He compared the difference between the same feelings from one job to another as he climbed the three flights to his apartment. Welding was dirty work. It was exhausting, and you definitely got hungry doing it, but it felt different from working sheep. It wasn’t better or worse—just different.
On his way to a hot shower, Matt saw a handwritten envelope on top of a stack of mail as he grabbed clean clothes from his dresser drawer. Only one person in the world that knew him would write like that. The sight of the carefully written letters and the evidence of partially erased penciled lines made him smile to himself.
He sank onto the bed and fumbled with the envelope. A stick of gum fell into his lap, and he grinned at the horse sticker slapped to the top right of the notebook paper. Patience was such a little girl. He groaned at himself for the thought. Of course, she was a little girl!
Dear Matt,
I miss you. I wish you didn’t have to go. I think you should have staid and worked for us. Lane is writing to you to.
When can you come back? Was your mommy happy to see you? My mama said that your mommy and daddy would miss you too much if you staid any longer. I told her that we miss Kyle, but that he stays in California anyway, so it would work for you too. That made mama cry. I guess I shouldn’t have said it.
Are you going to the movies soon? Lane said that she’d take me to Spokane for my birthday in June, and we could go to the movies, and we could ask you to go see the same movie on the same day and it would be just like we were going all together. Almost. If you go, I’ll buy you popcorn.
I am sending you a peace of gum. I was chewing one while I wrote this, but it lost all the flavor. Gum flavor goes away too fast. So I got me another peace, but I thought I’d share with you instead.
Please write back. I miss you. I think I said that already. Oh well, I do. I do. Lots and lots.
Love,
Patience Martha Argosy
Matt smiled as he read the letter. It sounded just like the little girl. Every line was a reminder of another world—misspellings and all. Before he could grab his shorts and a fresh t-shirt, he saw the second envelope. A feminine backhand told him that Lane was ambidextrous. He hadn’t noticed left-handedness.
Matt,
Well, you’ve been gone for two hours, and Patience is still moping. I suggested we write you to get her mind
Oh, and please ask little Miss IM-Patience to write me; you know I’d love to hear from her. Since Lane is incapable of taking over my job, I would assume she might have time to write as well. Of course, I’d love to hear from all of you, but I know you have a busy life so if you can’t or don’t care to respond, I will understand.
Matt— the honorary shepherd
~*~*~*~
Patience sat at the living room window, staring down the driveway. She’d moped around the house for the past two hours, and Lane was ready to tear her hair out in frustration. “Patience, I have an idea. Why don’t we write him letters? If we drive them to the Post Office, they might be there when he gets home from work Monday.”
That’s all it took. Patience raced for her notebook and pencil. Before Lane could leave the room to retrieve her stationary, Patience had “ Dear Matt, ” written at the top of her paper.
They scribbled on their respective sheets of paper for some time, Lane’s backhanded script contrasting with Patience’s carefully slanted cursive. Once finished, Patience painstakingly addressed her envelope, raced to the office for a stamp, and then scrambled down the steps and into the Jeep to wait for Lane. Shaking her head as she followed, Lane wondered how one man could make such an impact on them in such a short time.
~*~*~*~
Lane calculated well. Matt dragged through the door just after six on Monday night, tired, dirty, and hungry. He compared the difference between the same feelings from one job to another as he climbed the three flights to his apartment. Welding was dirty work. It was exhausting, and you definitely got hungry doing it, but it felt different from working sheep. It wasn’t better or worse—just different.
On his way to a hot shower, Matt saw a handwritten envelope on top of a stack of mail as he grabbed clean clothes from his dresser drawer. Only one person in the world that knew him would write like that. The sight of the carefully written letters and the evidence of partially erased penciled lines made him smile to himself.
He sank onto the bed and fumbled with the envelope. A stick of gum fell into his lap, and he grinned at the horse sticker slapped to the top right of the notebook paper. Patience was such a little girl. He groaned at himself for the thought. Of course, she was a little girl!
Dear Matt,
I miss you. I wish you didn’t have to go. I think you should have staid and worked for us. Lane is writing to you to.
When can you come back? Was your mommy happy to see you? My mama said that your mommy and daddy would miss you too much if you staid any longer. I told her that we miss Kyle, but that he stays in California anyway, so it would work for you too. That made mama cry. I guess I shouldn’t have said it.
Are you going to the movies soon? Lane said that she’d take me to Spokane for my birthday in June, and we could go to the movies, and we could ask you to go see the same movie on the same day and it would be just like we were going all together. Almost. If you go, I’ll buy you popcorn.
I am sending you a peace of gum. I was chewing one while I wrote this, but it lost all the flavor. Gum flavor goes away too fast. So I got me another peace, but I thought I’d share with you instead.
Please write back. I miss you. I think I said that already. Oh well, I do. I do. Lots and lots.
Love,
Patience Martha Argosy
Matt smiled as he read the letter. It sounded just like the little girl. Every line was a reminder of another world—misspellings and all. Before he could grab his shorts and a fresh t-shirt, he saw the second envelope. A feminine backhand told him that Lane was ambidextrous. He hadn’t noticed left-handedness.
Matt,
Well, you’ve been gone for two hours, and Patience is still moping. I suggested we write you to get her mind
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