“Your mother was very sick. She knew she might not live long enough to watch you grow up.”
I slowly placed my hand on the box.
Inside were dozens of envelopes.
Each one had an age or occasion written on it.
“For Emily’s 10th birthday.”
“For Emily’s 16th birthday.”
“When Emily starts college.”
“When she falls in love for the first time.”
And then I saw the final envelope.
“When she graduates.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Why didn’t my father have these?”
The woman answered.
“Your mother was afraid it would be too painful for him. She asked us to keep them safe.”
I looked at Professor Hayes.
“Then why did you keep making me stay after class?”
He gave me a sad smile.
“Because the first time I saw you, I wasn’t sure you were really her daughter. Then I confirmed it. But I couldn’t just walk up to you and say, ‘I have letters from your mother who died years ago.’”
I sat down.
My hands were trembling.
Then he opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out another envelope.
“This one was for me.”
