The Legacy
 
       When my husband, Bob, died very suddenly in January 1994, I   received condolences from people I hadn't heard from in years:   letters, cards, flowers, calls, visits. I was overwhelmed with   grief, yet uplifted by this outpouring of love from family,
  friends and even mere acquaintances.
       One message touched me profoundly. I received a letter from   my best friend from sixth grade through high school. We had   drifted somewhat since graduation in 1949, as she stayed in our   home town and I had not. But it was the kind of friendship that
  could quickly resume even if we lost touch for five or ten years.
       Her husband, Pete, had died perhaps 20 years ago at a young   age, leaving her with deep sorrow and heavy responsibilities:   finding a job and raising three young children. She and Pete,  like Bob and I, had shared one of those rare, close, "love-of-  your-life-you-can-never-forget" relationships.
       In her letter she shared an anecdote about my mother (now  long deceased). She wrote, "When Pete died, your dear mother  hugged me and said, 'Trudy, I don't know what to say . .  so I'll   just say I love you.'"
       She closed her letter to me repeating my mother's words of  so long ago, "Bonnie, I don't know what to say . . . so I'll just say I love you."
       I felt I could almost hear my mother speaking to me now. What a powerful message of sympathy! How dear of my friend to cherish it all those years and then pass it on to me. I love you. Perfect words. A gift. A legacy.
 
   By Bonnie J. Thomas
       from A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul
  Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Barry
  Spilchuk