“Happy
Birthday to you! I suppose Stanley
delivered the customary paddling and 'one to grow on' or is he big enough to
manhandle you yet? It was too bad that I
didn't get home to be around the supper table for my share of that delicious
angel-food cake, that mother not doubt made for the occasion. But maybe, if you receive this letter in
time, you'll save me a piece, which I can eat upon my arrival home next
Friday.”
--
Letter from my father, Winfield, Kans., to my aunt, Barbara Brown, Bloomington,
Kans., Monday, March 22, 1943. It was
her fifteenth birthday.
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