A Christmas tribute to LeRoy
The World War II was over. Our family was waiting for LeRoy to come home. It was late fall and we expected him anytime.
I was in the 7th grade and 12 years old. I was up early one morning; it was still dark out. As I walked by the window, I saw a soldier walk by. I hurried to the entry to get the first hug from my brother.
Then I hollered, "LeRoy is home, LeRoy is home." Down the stairs come the three brothers, they had stopped to put their trousers on.
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