I ran love letters to the Middle East. I’d put the sealed white #10 envelope/embossed, odd-sized, pastel-colored greeting card envelope or the folded packet of loose leaf paper, taped shut with “x”’s and “o”’s into a clear, plastic, gallon-sized bag. I’d pack it flat in the bottom of my duffle bag on the chance that I’d meet the soldier, the husband of the author, somewhere in The Levant. The letters were part of a secret, surprise, morale mission between several soldiers I knew personally and their wives. There was no guarantee I would find the soldier on my deployment. It all depended on where my travels took me as I offered Mass, confession, prayers, counsel, and DFAC (dining facility) trays at mess tents and makeshift kitchens in former schoolhouses and residential buildings wherever the Army mission led me.

Running love letters from the Middle East back home was much easier. I knew I’d find the soldiers’ wives at church with their children on Sunday or at the school pickup/drop off zone or the soccer fields. As an Army chaplain, it’s a thrill to bring a deployed soldier’s letter home to his wife. It’s a way to bring soldiers to God and God to soldiers. It’s especially sweet when a soldier’s wife had no idea that I just had the opportunity to find her beloved a few days ago on some pile of rocks between home and nowhere. 

One time, which might have been the first time, I delivered a love letter to the bride of a soldier just a day after I came home from a deployment. Her husband still had a few weeks left in the field. I found the soldier’s wife between the post chapel and the parking lot with their kids swarming at her ankles.

“Hey, any chance you recognize this handwriting?” I said as I offer her a packing-taped, makeshift envelope with her own name on it, clearly written in black ink. “Father! Are you trying to make me cry?” she said with a grin bigger than the distance I’d just traveled. I smiled back and handed her the letter. 

In this day and age, with email, FaceTime, texts, and phone calls, soldiers and families can stay better connected than ever throughout deployments. But there’s nothing like a handwritten, hand-delivered letter, courtesy of the Chaplain Postal Service.

Fr. Peter Pomposello is a priest of the Archdiocese of New York currently on assignment as an Army chaplain recruiting priests for the Army. Follow him and his recruiting team’s work on Instagram and Facebook @fr.unclesam.