Gfsd

gefgdfherwjhfvwe fbuiewqhbf fqwigui fhdsbf b b b b b b   a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a aa a a aa a a a a a a aa a a a a a a a a a aa a a a a aa         Brittany Bourlier
My name is Alexandria Mae Howard and I am 90 years old. I live in New York City, New York as a retired editor/writer. I want to tell you a story about a war that changed my life.
This story begins as any other story starts, at the beginning. It was mid July the summer of 1941 right after my twenty-first birthday. At this time I lived out in the country in upscale New York with my parents. My friend Kendra Smith and her fiancé Jeff whells had yet again drug me into the city to set me up on a blind date. They believed I should be married or engaged not single. I walked up to my date and introduced myself. Then the handsome man introduced himself as Johnathon Howard but he goes by John. He was about 6 foot, a nicely built figure with muscles, the prettiest golden eyes, short trimmed brown hair and a laid back farmer style of clothing. We walked hand in hand down the main strip of New York City. Talking about everything, I learned that he was an only child, his parents Lye and Margret owned a farm upstate. His father had recently become a navy admiral leaving Margret to take care of the farm alone.
For that night was the first of many days we had spent together. We did everything together and with every kiss and every hug our feelings grew more and more. Most of our conversations had consisted of talking about World War Two; we had hoped that the United states stay out of it. The summer came and went for we couldn’t spend every moment together any longer. I remember the first time we had said we loved each other it was October 21st. About a week later he cooked me dinner and proposed. I was so shocked I couldn’t say a word all I could do was nod. We planned to look for a house to move into after we married.
One evening while we were packing up some of my things I was getting rid... [continues]

Read full essay