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Personal Narrative Essay: The Vietnam War

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The sun was rising, people start their daily routines and their commutes to work; the city is about to awake. 1862 Boston, the home of almost 700,000 Americans at the time, remained one of the busiest cities in the world.
“So what are you getting today, Timmy boy!”
“Oh just some paper and some milk.” I said after grabbing the milk out of the refrigerator.
“What’s the paper for?” Mr. Hanson asked.
“Well, my Papa is in the war so I decided to write to him.”
“Oh, I’m really sorry Timmy. I’ll be praying for him every night.”
“Thanks Mr. Hanson, it means alot to me.” I said leaving the town market.
As I was walking home on the newly paved cement sidewalk, I heard two people talking about the war and how the first battle between the union and the confederates has started. The only thing I could think of was my father fighting. So I told myself that everything would be alright.
When I got home to my quaint, cozy new brick house, I saw my mother knitting quietly and an empty table a couple feet away so I decided to start writing my letter to my father. I grabbed my feather and ink and wrote.
¨Dear Father, It has been really boring and not entertaining while you have been
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It was a small wood building kind of like a barn. And we walked in and my mother asked for Mr. Fredrickson and the nurse said “Right this way.” We followed her to the room door I was shaking and nervous my mom was too. I put my hand on the cold steel door knob; I turned it and slowly and opened it gently. There was my dad lying on the bed, we looked at each other and I yelled “Papa!” I was so glad to see him just like he was glad to see us. After my mother, father, and I caught up on things and talked for a while the doctor slowly opened the door and said “You are able to leave, all you need is this.” She said after pulling a wheelchair from behind herself. We all gave each other hugs. I was so happy that my father could come
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