Rosalee, the PW

Dancing was right there with swimming – it was something one didn’t do in public – and never with boys. Rosalee watched and enjoyed all of the moves everyone made, but she just listened to the lyrics and sipped and smiled. Oh, she wanted to dance, she thought it looked like great fun, but she squelched that desire straight away. She didn’t want her mind to become “the devil’s workshop,” if she let her mind drift too far from holy thinking. What was the devil’s workshop anyway, and what was crafted there? Was it like Santa’s workshop with little green elves? Surely, the devil’s elves must have horns, stubby red ones, for sure.

Rosalee turned her attention back toward her date.

Darrell did not notice Rosalee’s new dress, and Rosalee didn’t notice that Darrell didn’t say anything. She was thinking about that letter she had laid aside back home, and wondered why her brother’s friend wrote her a note. What did he have to say to her? She’d have to open her drawer and read it before she went to bed. For now, it was tucked underneath her stockings, the special ones with the line up the back of the leg, reserved for special occasions. She had opted not to wear them tonight on her date with Darrell, because they weren’t really that comfortable. The waistband was tight, she was afraid of snagging them and causing a runner (a snag that becomes a long streak!), so that pair of pantyhose stayed in the drawer.

Later that night, about 9:30 p.m. to be exact, when the date with Darrell was over and Rosalee was back at home, she sat alone by the lamp on her desk. She had put her dress to the side to be washed, placed her new shoes in the cardboard box and back on the high shelf in the closet, and the house was quiet. All she could hear was the wind outside the window, indicating the weather was changing overnight to colder temperatures. After all, it was getting close to Christmas. Her desk was small, it was another piece from the furniture store, and the drawers squeaked when they were opened. She’d have to ask her dad to oil them for her tomorrow.

Quietly, she opened the drawer and pulled out the letter, especially careful not to wake her parents. They were sound sleepers, so all was well. Rosalee sat in a straight back, cane bottom chair, and she opened the Air Force stationery and began to read…

Dear Rosalee…