Frodo,
I sit by the campfire nowadays and tell stories of our adventures to my children.
Lately I can't help but sit there thinkin' of you, sir, and how I wish you were there to hear them. You should see their faces; glowing like the sun, they are, and they ask such questions! Especially about you, Mister Frodo. You're a fine hero to them, I reckon' to all the Shire by now. It's not lessened since your leave, sir, not one bit. They talk of the fearless Frodo and his adventures in lands far away, beyond the hills and further.
I've oft' thought of joining you, sir, more often than I can count. Some days I wonder if you miss the Shire-- but then I reckon' it's an awful beautiful place, Valinor. I've heard tell it's finer than all the elvish lands in Middle Earth. And I hope you're happy, sir...I'm writing this letter today, but from what I hear it might not arrive for some time.
So lest it comes late, should be in the late spring, I reckon, then...Mister Frodo, I'd only ask of a flower seed. To plant in my garden when the next spring comes to bloom. I'm happy, sir, happier than a Gardner like me could ought to ask! I'd not trade anything here for all the elvish seeds in the world. But I oft' miss you, Mister Frodo. I've never had a brother who I found a friend in, but I reckon if I did, he'd be you, sir.
I reckon that flower will help me wake up in the morning and know you're still alive and well...no matter how far away. Now and for always.
Till then, Mister Frodo! Till then!
