TuvaH

**Dear mother……**
It’s me, your daughter writing to you. I am now sitting in my apartment, looking out the window. I am cold and it’s raining outside. It’s been tree months since the last time you heard from me. I am sorry, but first now I have earned enough money to buy a postage stamp. I wish I could fill this letter with happiness and gratitude for finally filling my biggest dream. But I can’t. I moved to America filled with hope and dreams, I wanted to change my life. I want to be rich and famous, and I thought moving to the Great America, was my big opportunity.

Well, I have now lived her for tree months and my apartment is cold and dirty. I am lonely and poor and I am crying every night cause this is not my American dream. It’s to many people her and I can’t understand them, they are talking to fast. It’s so hopeless and I am not used to this continent. I don’t fit in because I can’t even take the bus.

I am sure you remember how much I talked about this and how much I complaint about Norway. I hated the little, boring country and I longed for the great America. Her in America I was supposed to start my new fantastic life. But the truth is, now I cant wait to come back home. I want to come home to Norway, the little, cold and boring but safe country. I miss you and I miss my old life.

I am sorry for being so selfish for only talking about myself. What’s going on back home in Norway? Is grandma still alive? How about my young cousins? Are they still noisy? I think about you all the time. Later when I have earned some money I will send you some gifts. Here you can buy anything. As long as you have money. If not you are nothing worth here.

The landlord here in the building I live in is a big fat German. He shouts up the stairs if we flush the toilet every time it has been used. He claims that the water is expensive, and that we only can flush down every third time! I am sorry for being so negative, but actually it’s not so much nice I can say. I am now starting to think that all this talk about America, the land of hope and glory, only is a lie. I am so small in this big, noisy country and I want to go home.

With this I am going to end my letter. It’s still raining outside my window. I hope I hear from you soon again cause I miss you mum. I am not living out my American dream.

Say hello to everyone!

Your daughter Tuva

= =

**My dear William....**
This is the third letter I am sending you since you left us almost four months ago. Please send me a sign back. I am sorry, but I and your father are desperate to find out how you’re doing. I am praying every day for a truth. I hope from the deepest of my heart that the reason for your silence is simply a late postman. But my thoughts are much worse. I am dreaming about your death. I picture my little boy lying on the cold ground, slowly bleeding to death.

Your father has been so quiet since you left. He is just standing in the kitchen window every day, waiting for the male. He is waiting for a sign from you William.

Well, how are you doing? Do you get enough to eat? Not to worry you, but your grandfather has been worse. He is sleeping whole day, and when he’s not sleeping he talks about you. It’s not easy to understand him, but I think he miss you. He has noticed that his youngest grandchild has left home, that he has left him for the war. He is like a child, and not really here with us. But I know that he would be proud of you.

I took a trip to the city Monday last week, and I met your old teacher, Mr. Henrique, beside the old pub at the corner. He asked me how you were doing, William. Then I realized, I couldn’t give him an answer. Because I don’t know how William is doing. I don’t even know if my son still is alive. Excuse me for being so dramatic, but I am just a mother.

It’s a lot of people here back home who is missing you William. We all would really appreciate a life sign from you very soon in the future. I hope your service in the army soon is over. You have to know that I am so proud of you, but I don’t like to see my little boy as a soldier. I miss you son. We all miss you.

I just have to hope that you are still alive, and I can one day in the nearly future pick up my youngest son at the railway station. Please come back home William. Come back alive!

Mum