Coming this Mother's Day
A story told one letter at a time · painted, together
Millhaven, Kansas · May 12, 1939
Dear Ruth,
The lilac hedge along the south fence came in so thick this year that Henry said he could smell it from the barn. The peonies were extraordinary — big as fists, that deep pink you and I used to call embarrassing when we were girls. The color Mama said was too much of a good thing.
I heard something on the radio last Tuesday — something about the Germans, some trouble in Europe. I did not hear all of it. By the time that was done, Henry had turned it off. It feels very far away from Millhaven in May, when the peonies are out.
With all my love,
Your Sarah
The story
Sarah Calloway grows flowers in Millhaven, Kansas — peonies, lilacs, lilies of the valley — and sells them to the church, the funeral parlor, and two shops in Wichita. Her garden is where she prays without kneeling.
She writes to her sister Ruth in England and her cousin Delia in Savannah. Three women. Three windows onto the same gathering storm. Over twelve letters, across twelve months, Sarah will learn what it means to hold on — and how to open her hands.
Each letter arrives in your mailbox, sealed. Each month, we paint her world together.
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She writes to her sister Ruth in England — already living what Sarah fears — and to her cousin Delia in Savannah, whose husband says it will all be over by Christmas. Three women. Three windows onto the same slow storm.
Her brother Walter came back from the last war changed in ways that never healed. She knows what war costs. Over twelve letters, delivered across twelve months, she will find a way to open her hands.
Each month, we paint a scene from her world together — wildflowers, candlelight, a Kansas winter, a still pond in May. You don't need to be an artist. You only need to show up.
Letter by letter. Brushstroke by brushstroke.
Meet me at the lillie pond.