Dear Father and Mother:
For some cause, I cannot tell what, I have not received a letter from any of you since I was at home, which have been very near a month ago. Though I have written to you twice in that time. I cannot command language to express my feelings this morning as I seat myself to try to wr-vte you a few lines in my simple way to let you know that I am yet alive and well. I have taken my seat in the warm sun beneath the boughs of an oak, out of site of the camp. And while I have been sitting here I have been retrospecting the past twelve months. This is the day if I mistake not on which brother James died. Three other sad anniversaries follow in quick succession. And these are what render the season unhappy in one sense. Though viewed in another light, it brings joy to my heart. While I have been exposed to danger and death and have suffered and endured many hardships and privations and had to contend with many sore trials and temptations for the past year and have many times strayed from the rxzth of duty. These four dear ones, as I believe, have been basking in the sunshine of God s love and have been drinking of the pure river of the water of life, beyond the waves of the tempestuous sea of life and secure from the ravages of him who "goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." This with the hope of meeting them ere long and enjoying their company with God s presence throughout eternity is what brings that joy to my heart. The poet in the following lines very truthfully and solemly speaks of the swiftness of time. They are so to the point that I cannot help penning them down. 

 
"The moments fly-a minutes gone! 
The minutes fly-an hour is run! 
The day is fled-the night is here! 
Thus flees a week! a month! a year! 
A year, alas! how soon it s past! 
Who knows but that this may be my last! 
A few short years-How soon they ve fled! 
And we are numbered with the dead! 
Yes, moments, minutes, days and years!     
Pass quickly in this vale of tears,   
But from that vale God's saints ascend, 
and live in joys that never end! 
Yes! days, months and years must have an end! 
But eternity has none!
 ‘Twill always have as long to spend as when it first begun." 

Well I will tell you a little about where we have been and then close. I suppose you got the letter I wrote from Carter Station, Tenn. From there we went down to Jonesboro and lay in the brush all night. The night it rained so we had no tents. I tell you it was a rough time. We then came around by Blountville to Bristol and got aboard the train and came to this place. We are camped 2 miles down the railroad from the depot near the tank. Perhaps father you would as soon come up and see us as not. And bring me a pair of socks and a piece of soap as we can t get any to wash our clothes. Also a little something to eat. Times have been pretty tight with us for rations for a few days. I don t insist, use your own pleasure about coming, for perhaps you may be too busy.
                                         
Yours as ever,
Thomas W. Fisher                                 
 
 
 

COPYRIGHT© 1998 Dianne McGinley Gardner - All rights reserved.  Copies for personal use and research may be freely made.  Commercial use is prohibited without permission.