While reviewing letters my grandmother wrote to my grandfather on his mission, I came across a long, sweet letter telling the happenings of her week. She closed the letter, “Love to you from someone who is lonesome for you but who is glad you are having the glorious privilege of a mission.” Then she added a hasty postscript, “I am enclosing a poem I thought you might like. Love again.” She underlined “Love again” heavily. I turned the page curiously... Read more