A Bright Tomorrow by Gilbert Morris Page A

was met by his mother who was smiling. “A letter came from Amos today. We were waiting for you to come home before we opened it.”
    â€œLet’s read it now, Ma!” Logan yelped.
    â€œNo, let’s eat first,” Owen countered. “I need to thaw out and get something hot in my belly.”
    â€œIt’s all ready.” Marian got them all seated, and they ate the venison steaks doused in white gravy. There were the usual loud arguments between the younger children, and Owen listened as his father told about a bear that he’d seen a mile away from the house.
    When they finished, Marian sat down and opened the envelope. She took out the two sheets of paper and held them up so that the yellow light from the coal-oil lamp fell on the clear, firm writing. She began to read, slowly and carefully:
    Dear Folks,
    I hope you are all well and that the winter has not been too hard on you. I have been in good health, and though the weather is colder here, I do not mind it.
    My new job is turning out fine. As I think I told you, Virginia spoke to her uncle, Mr. Hearst, about me, and he was so pleased about the way I helped her get the interview with Mr. Roosevelt that he gave me a part-time job on his newspaper, the New York Journal. As I told you, it was mostly just cleaning up down at the paper, but Virginia has helped me with my writing, and now here’s my big surprise: I wrote a piece about the police chief…and Mr. Hearst liked it so much he put me on full time!
    It was hard for me to say good-bye to Jamie, he’s been so good to me. But he’s happy for me. I’ll write more later when I get settled.
    â€œI don’t like the sound of that.” Owen frowned. “It sounds to me like he won’t be coming home.” He was slouched down in his chair, his brow furrowed. Owen had missed Amos more than any of them—except for Marian, of course. “He keeps talking about that woman, Virginia Powers. I’ll bet she’s sweet on him. Well, go on, Ma, let’s hear the rest of it.”
    This means I won’t be coming home as soon as I thought.
    â€œSee? What’d I tell you?” Owen interjected.
    But the good news is that I’ll be able to send more money home. Maybe you can hire a man to help you with the spring plowing. If I do well, Virginia says her uncle will give me a raise, so I can help with the expenses there—maybe even send Owen to college.
    I was glad to get your letter, Ma, and especially glad to hear that Lylah had written. She left New York last week, going with a group of actors on a traveling road show. We’ve seen a lot of each other since I ran across her in the theater. As I said before, there’s no hope that she’ll come home—not now, anyway. She’s not making much money, but she says the star of the show likes her and has given her a small speaking part in the play. I’ll sure be glad to see it, but I worry about her, as you all do.
    That’s about all, I guess, except to tell you about one of the boarders here at Mama Anna’s. She came here about two months ago, and we’ve gotten to be good friends. Her name is Rose Beaumont, and she is all alone in the city, having lost her parents recently. I had the chance to do her a favor, and she’s been very grateful. Unfortunately, she had to go to work in that terrible bottle factory where I punched the manager. It’s wearing her down, just like it did me. Nick and I take her out to eat sometimes, not together, of course. Anyway, I’m trying to find a better job for her. You might put her in your prayers, Ma. She could sure use it!
    Well, good-bye for now. I enclose twenty dollars and will send more in two weeks. Owen, don’t shoot all the deer in the county. Save a few for me!
    Marian put the letter down on the table, and looked across at her husband. “Will, Amos won’t be back for spring plowing. We’ll use this money to