Short Story When Charity Came Home

Words: 2427
Pages: 10

When Henry came home with all those supplies, she knew the only way he could have gotten them was to join the Confederate Army; Nancy and Sarah had already told her what the Confederates were doing to raise an army. Charity could not be mad at Henry; he had done what he thought was best for his family. They needed the money and the supplies, but those material things would not replace her husband’s presence in his absence, nor would they stop her fear of losing him- war destroyed more than the earth it was fought for; it tore apart and destroyed families’ lives.
The same feelings of dread that Charity remembered from when she was a young girl and set off on an adventure with her grandfather, settled in her heart- She had no visions nor premonitions
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After several sips of coffee, she lit her pipe and inhaled a long, strong, puff, hoping it and the coffee would soothe her frazzled nerves.

Jeremiah and the older children moped around the house all that day; several days actually, but they weren’t alone. If not for having to continue doing chores and cooking, Charity feared she might have gone crazy; she could not shake her feelings of dread; however, she knew that she would have to stay strong because they all looked to her for their strength. She could not let them know how weak she felt.
Lying in bed that night, fingering the pages of the two books her thoughtful husband had bought her, loneliness washed over her, consuming her. Without Henry by her side to share in her joy after reading them, she found no comfort the books. Laying them aside, she blew out the lamp; her mind was too full to even attempt to
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Henry was assigned under General, Carter L. Stevenson to Co. E 30th Regiment, Alabama Infantry. As soon as they arrived, they were ushered into battle; agog, Henry stared out over the intense battle playing out before him, mesmerized, until a cannon boomed and a cannonball came whizzing through the crowd and mowed down several men, breaking limbs and nearly decapitating one sergeant. Quickly scampering out of the way- an alert Henry looked around with a different set of eyes. The wounded sergeant was nearer him, so that was who he ran to help. Grabbing him up, Henry threw him over his shoulder and ran toward the medic tents at the back of the line. Once he deposited the sergeant, he headed back to help the others.
During those three days of non-stop fighting, Henry done more toting of wounded soldiers than he did fighting- at least he felt useful. Resting briefly beneath a sweet gum tree, Henry thought of his sons- they had endured months of this carnage and as far as he knew had survived it… “God be with them,” he whispered, closing his eyes, hoping to get a few minutes