One Last Letter

Vista, California

MARCI: In high school, I spent my summers in the foothills of the Sierras with my grandmother, in a little town near Yosemite National Park called Bass Lake. My freshman year, I went along with her church on a mission trip to Mexico. That’s how I met John. Sitting by the campfire, strumming our guitars, John made me laugh. Made me feel special. He was three years older than me, just weeks away from joining the Marines. I hated to see the week end.

A year later, I was at church in Bass Lake with my grandmother and John walked in. He looked so different with his military buzz cut. We spent the afternoon together and before he left, he gave me his address and hugged me so close I could feel both our hearts beating.

“Someday I will come back for you,” he