It had been a week since he had dropped her off at the sanatorium. A week of thoughts of him. A week of prayers for forgiveness of those thoughts. She had been through several more tests and her first treatment was scheduled for the next day. She sat in the parlor with her Bible open in her lap, though she did not look at it.

She was lost in thought when she heard her name called. "What is it now?" she thought. "I thought I was done for the day." A nurse walked over to her and handed her several letters.

"Your mail, Sister."

"Thank you, Nurse."

She immediately recognized the neat script of Sister Julianne on the first letter. Moving to open it, she glanced at the next letter and gasped. She had seen this handwritting on countless patient files. Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't bring herself to open it. What would he be writing to her about? What if it was nothing along the lines of her own thoughts? What if it was? She wasn't sure which option made her more scared. Setting the letter aside, she returned to Sister Julianne's letter.

She had set his letter on her bedside table upon returning to her room and now, laying in bed she couldn't take her eyes off of it. She still hadn't opened it and wasn't sure if she ever would. She turned to face the other wall. "Out of sight out of mind," she thought to herself. Closing her eyes she turned her thoughts to the other letters she had recieved. Before long she was sound asleep.

Days turned to weeks and each week brought a new letter. She kept them in a drawer, still unopened. As the treatments continued her energy drained. She hated the idyllness that filled her days but she used this time for prayer. She knew that she was not questioning her faith in God, rather the path he was wanting her to take. She still felt his love in all she did. She just wasn't sure of what to do with that love. Was she to continue in her service to Him as a nun and midwife or was there another path set for her?

She had grown tired of the nurse's questions about his letters. They were causing her enough trouble without it. She knew it was time to talk to Sister Julienne. She asked to make a call and arrange for a visit.

After her visit with Sister Julienne, she felt better than she had in months. She finally knew what her next step would be. She was rid of the disease that had forced her away from her home and it was time to return. Sister Juliwnne had told her that arrangements would be made for her to spend some time at the mother house to finish her recovery. The relief of finally knowing as well as well as the absence of the disease allowed her to breathe easier.

After Sister Julienne's visit she was finally able to open his letters. She pulled them out of the drawer and brought them out to the sitting room. She had kept them in order and had twelve in all. Turning them over she ran her hands along the writing on the envelope before tearing open the first letter. Her smile grew as she she read. She took her time reading them and as she did she knew she would read them again and again. The letters always began by saying he was unsure what compelled him to write but that he felt he must do so. He would recount the many births he had been to. She was glad to be kept appraised of things in Poplar. She had been kept up to date by the others at Nonnatus, but she had always particularly enjoyed the more difficult cases, of which the doctor was able to recount in more detail. He mentioned Timothy, who had asked about her often.

All too soon she had read them all but the last, which had arrived just that afternoon. She paused, letting the emotions she felt run though her mind and heart. There was no longer any denying the love in her heart. With a smile on her face she opened the last letter.

Sister Bernadette,

I cannot believe it has been 3 months since I have last seen you. It feels like an eternity. I feel the sting of disappointment each time I am called to a case and you are not there waiting for me. I miss working with you. Don't tell the others but you were always the most talented midwife at Nonnatus. Your skills and compassion always put the mothers at ease. We deeply feel your absence.

Timothy continues to ask about you each time we see the Sisters and nurses. He was very touched that you took an interest in his butterfly and has your picture in a frame next to his bed. I have never before felt jealous of my son until he recieved that card from you. I thank you for showing him such care. He so needs a woman's love and care. I wish you could have seen his face when he got your note.

I cannot stop replaying that day in the Parish Hall kitchen in my mind. I feel so guilty for the way I acted. There is really no excuse I can give you. I had not intented to kiss your hand. I don't remember making the decision to follow you inside, I just found myself there with you. When you reached out your hand to me, I had every intention of just examining your wound. Once I had your hand in mine, it was as if I was no longer in control. My heart took over and I found myself leaning towards your hand. I hadn't realized what I was doing until you turned away from me. Your words about turning away from me because of Him have filled me with such hope since that day.

The day of the X-ray van has to be one of the worst days of my life. I so enjoyed working with you (as I always do). Words cannot express the way I felt when I saw your name on the x-ray card. Being able to save you made the entire ordeal of the van worth it. I am glad we were able to detect the others but for you I am most grateful. I cannot bear to think what may have happend if we had not found the legions in your lungs. The thought of not having you around makes it difficult to breathe. Thankfully we were able to find them and provide you with the proper treatments.

As I have not recieved any reply to my letters, I am not even sure if you are reading them. Just the process of writing to you has made me feel enormously better. I sincerely hope that you will soon be back with us in Poplar, regardless of what happens when you return.

My dearest regards,

P. Turner.

As she finished reading the final letter, she felt tears gathering in her eyes. The day in the Parish Hall kitchen had sparked a flame that she hadn't known was within her. Now, after reading his words it was burning with the heat and intensity of a forrest fire. She carfully gathered the letters together and made her way back to her room.

She places them on her bedside table and climbs into her bed. She closes her eyes and for the first time, she knows she will not feel guilty about the dreams she knows she will be having.