Dear Mary,
Many years ago, I wrote you a letter that I have never sent. I am not sure if it makes sense to write you now, after all this time, but I thought about you often, and how I never thanked you for the package you have sent me; the package that have changed my life.
It was 1945, and The Second World War was over. People were coming home from camps, from their hiding places where they stayed for 6 years, hoping to find someone. Most of these people found no one, not even their home. Cemeteries were full and homes were empty.
A heavy cloud covered the sky and settled in everyone’s heart.
