Once our paths crossed, being together was all that mattered.
When I joined an international pen pal club in November 1959, I had no idea how it would change my life. I was an RN at a large hospital in Bremen, in northern Germany. By December, the letters started pouring in. One letter from Sweden piqued my interest. It was from a Swedish horticulturist who lived and worked in Helsingborg. He wrote the letter in German, and soon many more of his letters crossed The Sound, or Oresund, and the Baltic Sea.
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December / January 2018