Do you remember the days when people sent letters rather than emails? Of course you do, and how much more romantic they were. And what a wonderful trace of time they have left us.
I was recently gifted four postcards sent by a father to his daughter Lucienne away by the sea for the month of August 1938 .
From the cards it is clear that she was there for a month, that her papa came to see er every Sunday, and apparently, like so many little girls, she loved horses.
I was happy to discover a little more. Her address was at Villa Glaieuls, Ostende in Belgium. This foundation still exists today. It was originally created to support the families of soldiers, or for children from needy families who couldn't afford a holiday. Today Les Glaieuls is still present for children in difficulty.
I tried to weave a little story around these postcards but decidedly I am not clever enough, and it became melodramatic, when actually there was no need. So I simply bring you pictures of the cards and invite you to imagine your own story around these few words written each week by a papa, impatient to see his little Lulu the following Sunday.
If you are in writing mood and you would like to share a story that fits the images, then please feel welcome to use the comment box below - we would all be very happy to read you!
I wish you all a happy weekend,
thank you so much for your kind comments about my post yesterday,
you really are the best!
PS. And here to inspire you further, is a photo of the house where Lulu spent her holiday.