Dear Journal, I can't believe this. A war has started over in Europe, which started last year in August. I've heard that it is getting very serious. What happens if they want people from America to join? Will Jack have to go? Oh God, if he does I don't know what I'll do. I say a prayer every day that it won't, and for the brave men who are in that horrible war. I can never sleep anymore at night. I know that it sounds silly, but a couple of weeks ago I had a dream in which Germans came into our house. I woke Jack up, and we went into the children's room. He got Max, and I got Audrey. The soldiers came upstairs with huge guns, and took away Max and Audrey leaving me crying in Jack's arms. I woke up and saw Jack open his eyes after I sat up in bed with sweat dripping off my face. I went to go check the children who were sleeping, and then lay down in Jack's arms and cried myself to sleep. It still makes my heart sink every time the thought comes back. Yet Journal, I'm not the only who is a little frightened. Camilla, Anna, and even our Millie are a little scared about this war. There is no good news these days on the front page of the paper. It might not be the headline, but there is always some article about it. I even heard that some Americans could go to war. A family across the street had there only eighteen-year-old son go to war eight weeks ago. This morning when Jack was outside getting the paper, he said that he saw a man in a uniform knock on their door. The mother appeared, and the man handed her the note. She then made a blood-curdling scream, and started to cry hysterically. It ended up that their son has been reported to be missing in action, and he is presumed dead. As soon as Jack told me this, I started to bake banana nut bread for the family. I went over their house, and gave it to them. The father answered who was in a death trance, but it wasn't surprising. I remember seeing millions of faces like that on the Carpathia the morning Titanic sank. I handed him the bread, and for a moment, I swear that I could see a slight smile. I gave my sympathy, and he thanked me. Shortly after, he closed the door, and I walked across the street heading towards the house. I walked back in, and I saw Max running towards Jack. He said to him, "Daddy, why was that woman crying?" Jack paused, stared down at the ground, and then looked over at me. I gave Jack a slight smile and he replied, saying, "Because Max, their son is missing, and they are pretty sure he is dead." "Dead?" "It means that he's sleeping." "Will he ever wake up?" "No Max, he won't." Max then started to cry, and Jack held him tight. I went over to Jack who was on both knees at Max's level. He was holding him, and I bent down and held them both. Jack and I both knew the boy very well. He made and sold a lot of paintings for Jack. He himself was very good, and he was so nice to Max and Audrey. May God be with him and his family.
