A/N Don't own the characters, LMM does, Marta's mine and I kinda like her.
I apologize if this one is a tad bit melodramatic, it just wrote itself,
I'm not so sure I meant it to go that way. Oh well, think of Anne's first
attempts (at least in my story the heroin doesn't lose every one of her
children). I assure you more funny ones will come. Also, I'd like to
apologize for the rift in the time line, I'm writing them as they come not
as they happened, am now writing an Una fic.
Rosie
Faith Meredith married her boyhood sweetheart in a beautiful ceremony held at the Glenn St. Marry manse. Reverend John Meredith, father of the bride officiated, Faith's sister and sisters in law were bridesmaids. The people of the Glenn all remarked it was a miracle the wedding ever took place what with Jem being missing and presumed dead by all but his nearest and dearest. Some Glenn women did go on about Mrs. Blythe looking so cheerful and laughing, with Walter gone not two years. Others were much disturbed by the bride taking on a job as a trained nurse in Kingsport. Even though it was 1919, it was unheard of a married woman working, at least not one who didn't have to.
I've never seen an ugly bride, but Faith was far more than beautiful, she was heavenly. Her golden brown hair was simply adorned by a veil that had been her mother in law's. Una, sister of the bride and maid of honor had hand sewn a masterpiece of white silk and lace. But above all she was happy and when Faith was happy her eyes glowed and her cheeks were as rosy as a red rose.
As Faith slid away from her brother Jerry's arm and took her place beside Jem before her father and God, he whispered one word to her, "Rosie". The one word that said at any other time to any other person would have meant nothing at all, meant the world to Faith.
As Jem lay feverish and delirious in a field hospital somewhere in Holland, the only word he uttered for days was "Rosie". Upon his arrival, he had not been not able to have been questioned due to obvious reasons. The Dutch nurse who received care of the Canadian Capitan had rummaged through the little that amounted to the suffering patient's earthly possessions in search of a clue to whom this Rosie was. Understandably, not much was left of his belongings after many years of war, months of imprisonment and than an escape. Marta, the Dutch nurse went through the meager personal items found in the young soldier's pocket, many times in her investigation. Marta was a great romantic with a wild imagination; she just knew that Rosie was a very special person.
In Capitan Blythe's pocket was a faded tattered newspaper clipping with an advertisement for a house in South London, the other side had a war poem, the poet's name was torn off for it had suffered incredibly. Marta, hoped he had kept the clipping for the poem rather than the house advertisement (though that would have been the more practical choice), it was such a beautiful poem. Brittle and faded rose petals were there too, obviously alluding to the elusive Rosie. A letter and an envelope were found, the letter was from the father, it was signed "Dad". The mystery and perhaps a clue to the puzzle lay within the envelope. Although the letter from the father described events and scenes from America (the philistine, like many Europeans, she could not distinguish between Canada and the United States), the envelope it was in was postmarked with a British seal. Much damage was done to the letter and envelope, most of the letter was illegible, and the name and address were but a faded blue marking.
It took Marta only a few hours to decide she must do something for the poor patient. "If he does have a friend in England, he or she must be summand" She told herself. Secretly, she hoped the friend was a she answering to the name of Rosie. Without a name or address, she sent a letter to the military post office that had been postmarked. In the letter she explained the whole situation, as she knew it, including the few clues she had and the name of the poor soldier.
Many miles away in a small town on the western coast of Britain was Faith Meredith, a young VAD, working at a local military medical facility. Faith, trying to avoid thought and above all sleepless nights, was working herself to exhaustion. Faith knew with all her being that Jem was alive and would return home. For Faith there just was no other option. What kept Faith up at nights was the thought that Jem was wounded or had fallen ill. Faith had been caring for wounded and ill soldiers since she had arrived in England. The pain and suffering was beyond anything she could have ever imagined in her worst nightmares. What tormented Faith above all the other horrors of the carnage of war was the aging. She had seen patients coming in that looked older than her father; looking at their files she would see they were as young as she or even younger.
She was not able to write to her friends and family back home as often as she would have wished. Writing meant thinking and when she thought she saw Jem as one of the ancient ghost of boys suffering far beyond their physical wounds and ailments. She had to write though, in order to receive letters from home, those letters full of love hope and encouragement, were what kept her sane.
Faith had taken a batch of a dozen or so letters to all her nearest and dearest in Canada to the post office. It was a military post office with many convalescing soldiers coming in to post letters to their loved ones. The ques were awfully long. Faith amused herself by reading the postings put up by the postal staff. Among notices about changing postage stamp rates and censorship warnings was a letter written by a Dutch nurse.
What caught Faith's eye was the poem, how nice for Walter to be honored and loved by a stranger. Reading further she caught the name Captain James Mathew Blythe. Her first reaction was to think how peculiar a coincidence, Walter's poem saved by a soldier with Jem's name. This James Mathew Blythe was calling for a girl named Rosie. How uncanny, Jem would insist on calling her Rosie when they were in private ever since he had been told the story of her Uncle Norman Douglas. Jem had always said that he loved her always but he seemed to love her even more when her cheeks were flaming red (they always did flame red after he would say such things).
It struck her in one moment, the full force of it had hit her with such might she had to sit down, on the floor in the crowded post office holding a dozen letters. She was Rosie, Jem was Capitan James Mathew Blythe and she had to get to Holland as soon as possible.
Faith arrived in the Dutch military hospital early the next morning. No mortal effort could have brought her there that fast in wartime, but a higher force than mortal strength powered Faith. Marta was dully called for and brought a very flushed Faith to the bedside of the man she loved. "Rosie", he said and looked in her eyes, "I'm not leaving you again". That was the first coherent sentence he had uttered since his admittance. Later that day a cable was sent to Ingleside.
Many things were said and dreamt and imagined beside that bed for many weeks to come. Plans were made and remade again and again. Faith, who feared so her young Jem would look old and ghostlike, could not see any symptoms of age in him. She didn't notice any gray strands in the once ruddy hair, or a knowing look in the once young and merry eyes. Perhaps this was so because Faith herself was no longer a girl, she too had suffered the horrors of war.
Standing at the alter the only thing Jem could say to the one woman who meant the world to him was Rosie. Faith knew that Rosie meant, the universe, undying love, will power and above all Rosie meant Faith.
Rosie
Faith Meredith married her boyhood sweetheart in a beautiful ceremony held at the Glenn St. Marry manse. Reverend John Meredith, father of the bride officiated, Faith's sister and sisters in law were bridesmaids. The people of the Glenn all remarked it was a miracle the wedding ever took place what with Jem being missing and presumed dead by all but his nearest and dearest. Some Glenn women did go on about Mrs. Blythe looking so cheerful and laughing, with Walter gone not two years. Others were much disturbed by the bride taking on a job as a trained nurse in Kingsport. Even though it was 1919, it was unheard of a married woman working, at least not one who didn't have to.
I've never seen an ugly bride, but Faith was far more than beautiful, she was heavenly. Her golden brown hair was simply adorned by a veil that had been her mother in law's. Una, sister of the bride and maid of honor had hand sewn a masterpiece of white silk and lace. But above all she was happy and when Faith was happy her eyes glowed and her cheeks were as rosy as a red rose.
As Faith slid away from her brother Jerry's arm and took her place beside Jem before her father and God, he whispered one word to her, "Rosie". The one word that said at any other time to any other person would have meant nothing at all, meant the world to Faith.
As Jem lay feverish and delirious in a field hospital somewhere in Holland, the only word he uttered for days was "Rosie". Upon his arrival, he had not been not able to have been questioned due to obvious reasons. The Dutch nurse who received care of the Canadian Capitan had rummaged through the little that amounted to the suffering patient's earthly possessions in search of a clue to whom this Rosie was. Understandably, not much was left of his belongings after many years of war, months of imprisonment and than an escape. Marta, the Dutch nurse went through the meager personal items found in the young soldier's pocket, many times in her investigation. Marta was a great romantic with a wild imagination; she just knew that Rosie was a very special person.
In Capitan Blythe's pocket was a faded tattered newspaper clipping with an advertisement for a house in South London, the other side had a war poem, the poet's name was torn off for it had suffered incredibly. Marta, hoped he had kept the clipping for the poem rather than the house advertisement (though that would have been the more practical choice), it was such a beautiful poem. Brittle and faded rose petals were there too, obviously alluding to the elusive Rosie. A letter and an envelope were found, the letter was from the father, it was signed "Dad". The mystery and perhaps a clue to the puzzle lay within the envelope. Although the letter from the father described events and scenes from America (the philistine, like many Europeans, she could not distinguish between Canada and the United States), the envelope it was in was postmarked with a British seal. Much damage was done to the letter and envelope, most of the letter was illegible, and the name and address were but a faded blue marking.
It took Marta only a few hours to decide she must do something for the poor patient. "If he does have a friend in England, he or she must be summand" She told herself. Secretly, she hoped the friend was a she answering to the name of Rosie. Without a name or address, she sent a letter to the military post office that had been postmarked. In the letter she explained the whole situation, as she knew it, including the few clues she had and the name of the poor soldier.
Many miles away in a small town on the western coast of Britain was Faith Meredith, a young VAD, working at a local military medical facility. Faith, trying to avoid thought and above all sleepless nights, was working herself to exhaustion. Faith knew with all her being that Jem was alive and would return home. For Faith there just was no other option. What kept Faith up at nights was the thought that Jem was wounded or had fallen ill. Faith had been caring for wounded and ill soldiers since she had arrived in England. The pain and suffering was beyond anything she could have ever imagined in her worst nightmares. What tormented Faith above all the other horrors of the carnage of war was the aging. She had seen patients coming in that looked older than her father; looking at their files she would see they were as young as she or even younger.
She was not able to write to her friends and family back home as often as she would have wished. Writing meant thinking and when she thought she saw Jem as one of the ancient ghost of boys suffering far beyond their physical wounds and ailments. She had to write though, in order to receive letters from home, those letters full of love hope and encouragement, were what kept her sane.
Faith had taken a batch of a dozen or so letters to all her nearest and dearest in Canada to the post office. It was a military post office with many convalescing soldiers coming in to post letters to their loved ones. The ques were awfully long. Faith amused herself by reading the postings put up by the postal staff. Among notices about changing postage stamp rates and censorship warnings was a letter written by a Dutch nurse.
What caught Faith's eye was the poem, how nice for Walter to be honored and loved by a stranger. Reading further she caught the name Captain James Mathew Blythe. Her first reaction was to think how peculiar a coincidence, Walter's poem saved by a soldier with Jem's name. This James Mathew Blythe was calling for a girl named Rosie. How uncanny, Jem would insist on calling her Rosie when they were in private ever since he had been told the story of her Uncle Norman Douglas. Jem had always said that he loved her always but he seemed to love her even more when her cheeks were flaming red (they always did flame red after he would say such things).
It struck her in one moment, the full force of it had hit her with such might she had to sit down, on the floor in the crowded post office holding a dozen letters. She was Rosie, Jem was Capitan James Mathew Blythe and she had to get to Holland as soon as possible.
Faith arrived in the Dutch military hospital early the next morning. No mortal effort could have brought her there that fast in wartime, but a higher force than mortal strength powered Faith. Marta was dully called for and brought a very flushed Faith to the bedside of the man she loved. "Rosie", he said and looked in her eyes, "I'm not leaving you again". That was the first coherent sentence he had uttered since his admittance. Later that day a cable was sent to Ingleside.
Many things were said and dreamt and imagined beside that bed for many weeks to come. Plans were made and remade again and again. Faith, who feared so her young Jem would look old and ghostlike, could not see any symptoms of age in him. She didn't notice any gray strands in the once ruddy hair, or a knowing look in the once young and merry eyes. Perhaps this was so because Faith herself was no longer a girl, she too had suffered the horrors of war.
Standing at the alter the only thing Jem could say to the one woman who meant the world to him was Rosie. Faith knew that Rosie meant, the universe, undying love, will power and above all Rosie meant Faith.