Farmerettes by Gisela Sherman Page B

returned to the game instead.
    An hour later, Helene excused herself. “I have to write my letters before I’m too tired.”
    â€œI should write too,” agreed Irene.
    â€œI’m the richest; I win. Just call me the Queen of Monopoly,” said Kate, raising her arms in victory before she helped pack away the game.
    â€œWait till next week,” said Peggy, laughing. “I should answer my mail too.”
    Binxie was already deep into her letters at a round wooden table. Helene sat beside her to finish the notes to Peggy’s soldiers. Only four now. One of them had found a girl in Halifax before he shipped out, and was exchanging letters with her instead.
    Then she wrote to her mother.
    Dear Mama,
    It’s a relief to know Hamilton is not too hot for you, and the boys are a help. Please hug them for me on their big day. It will be the first family birthday I’ve missed, and I’ll think of you even more that day. I’m enclosing ten dollars to buy them a cake and a gift each and something for you too. I have no use for it here—we’re fed well, and I have more clothes than I need. Jean shares her books with me, and there’s a library in town.
    Life here is wonderful. I’m so grateful you let me come. I’ve seen animals born and thrive. Every day I admire the sun rising and setting over fields of green and gold. My cough is gone, and I feel strong and full of energy. I only wish you and the boys, and Alva and her baby, were here to share it with me.
    Take care of yourself, Mama. I miss you.
    All my love,
    Helene.
    She saw Peggy looking at her envelopes with a guilty grimace. “Next week I promise I’ll write to the boys. I never know what to say.”
    Helene shrugged. “Everyday things. They want to hear about normal home life and that someone cares about them.”
    â€œYou always put things so nicely,” replied Peggy.
    â€œYou play the piano beautifully,” said Helene. “We’re even.”
    â€œFunny, no one ever compliments my singing.”
    â€œI wonder why.” Helene grinned.
    â€œI better write home too. I just wish there was some way to let them know what I’m doing without having to write a whole letter.” Peggy sighed, found paper, and made herself comfortable at the table. Helene slid into a soft chair and read.
    Isabel
    The pen felt awkward in Isabel’s hand as she tried to avoid the bandaged finger she had cut with a paring knife.
    My Darling Billy,
    Thank you for the photos. The army has put extra muscles on you, and it suits you well. England looks lovely. You must send me Mrs. Wyecroft’s trifle recipe so I can make it for you when you come home.
    I’m still doing my part for the war too. I was promoted to camp assistant. The cook and I plan and prepare the meals and oversee the general domestic care of the camp. Tonight we’re making Dinner-in-a-Roll. It’s excellent training for the day I run our home. I wish I could enclose a strawberry shortcake and a thousand kisses for you, but that must wait. In the meantime, here’s a picture of me and my friends in the orchard.
    My work here is fulfilling, but I long to hold you in my arms, to dance with you to our song, to hear you talk about the beautiful life we’ll build together when this war is over. I look at our star and pray for you every night.
    With eternal love and devotion,
    Your Isabel.
    She knew there was no reason to worry. Since last October, Billy had written at least one letter every week. Sometimes they were delayed and she’d get two or three at a time, but they always came. Lately he had skipped a week here and there, probably too busy training. His last letter said they were preparing to be shipped “somewhere hot.”
    She tucked the photo into the envelope. She knew she looked good in it. She hoped he’d notice how much slimmer she had become.
    After writing to her parents, she added her