She ran to the mailbox
On a bright summers day
Found a letter from her son
In a war far away
He spoke of the weather
And good friends that he'd made
Said I've been thinking 'bout dad
And the life he had
That's why I'm here today
And at the end he said...
Mother, you are what I'm fighting for
It was the first of his letters from war
Late in December
A day she'll not forget
Oh her tears stained the paper
With every word that she read
He asked me to write to you
I told him I would-- oh I swore
It was the last of the letters from war
And she prayed he was living
Kept on believing
and wrote every night just to say...
You are good and your brave
What a father that you'll be someday
Make it home
Make it safe
She kept writing each day
Two years later...
Autumn leaves all around
A car pulled in the driveway
And she fell to the ground
Other places to visit...