I saw a piece of paper floating in the gentle breeze as I walked to work.  The Carolina sky was blue and clear this spring morning, the air fresh.  I noticed a piece of paper floating along the path as I walked. It was a handwriting letter.  It began “Dear Son: I have started this letter a hundred times, and a hundred times I can never find the words to express my love for you.  I know you and your lady friend are having problems but trouble don’t last always and you’ll find way to solve them.  Put faith in God !..”  And, the pain, and love from mother to son was evident from the letter, and I wished that I return the heartfelt letter to whomever lost it.  I knew it had to be comforting to the son. Bu I needed to get to work at the barbershop because time is money, and I need dollar bills.

Stuffing the letter into my pocket, I decided to try and find the owner later because these were life-saving, hopeful words from a mother to a son — and could give the son hope in this difficult time.

Suddenly, I noticed a heavy set black man fleeing from a white police officer pulled his gun — then, the awful sound of gunfire. And, the horror of the scene hit me, the letter flew from my hand and gently drifted away into the morning sky.

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