He knocked on the door, hoping, willing her to open it. The face that greeted him, however, was not hers. Her mother pulled open the door with a pleasant smile, which fell into an astonished gape as her eyes fell upon the dashing young man with a long scar across his cheek. She knew that they had gotten a report of his death only a few days ago, so upon seeing him her mind became an explosion of questions and exclamations and praises to God. The soldier gave a small smile and nodded to her, holding back his joy at seeing the woman whom he considered his mother almost as much as his own. The woman, on the other hand, could hardly contain her tears as she stepped out onto the porch and threw her arms around her beloved son-in-law, laughing and crying at the same time. They wrapped their arms around each other, she squealing and gasping while he silently teared up. He squeezed his eyelids together in an effort to hold back overwhelming emotion. Mother pulled back; she would have held her brave soldier longer, but she knew whom he really wanted to surprise. Ushering him in, she couldn’t say anything, but only gestured up the stairs to the attic where his wife’s favorite window seat was. He nodded, sniffing and thanking her, and jogged up the stairs.
The carpeted steps carried a muffled thud at each fall of his heavy boots, which stopped abruptly as he reached the closed door. It was strange; she had never closed the attic door before. Nevertheless he turned the knob and pushed open the door, expecting to see the flood of light he was used to seeing. Instead, the room that greeted him was dim, and his wife knelt on the floor below the window seat, sobbing into her hands. Her pale blonde hair fell around her face, and even in the faint light, her feet underneath her seemed blue, indicative of her kneeling there for too long. Immediately his heart went out to her and he longed to run to her and comfort the wife he treasured. But he knew he would frighten her too much.
Instead, he began to sing.
Softly he sang her favorite song, one about returning to love, for she had been redeemed from a past of running away, and had only been saved by running back to the love of Jesus. His wife still knelt, unwilling to believe what she heard, for the pain would be too great to be disappointed by another false imagination. Still he kept singing, and knelt behind her, slowly wrapping his arms around her. On and on he quietly sang, soothing her sobs until she relaxed and leaned against his chest. Finally she slowly turned toward him; her green eyes searched his brown ones, willing herself to believe that her husband had returned. Though she thought she could cry no more, fresh tears gushed from her eyes as she threw herself against him. Their faces pressed against each other, tears mingling with the other’s tears, each one shaking with the force of the other’s joyful weeping. For what seemed like hours, they held each other like this; when they pulled back, they gazed lovingly at each other for a brief moment, and then sealed their reunion in a forever kiss.