Maggie's Love Letter
The letter below was found with other letters addressed to Margaret (Maggie) Virginia Blain (b. 9 Dec 1859). It is not in an envelope, but is dated “Whiteville, Tenn , July 3, 1880. The author also refers to his “teacher’s life”. It is addressed to “Little Darling” and is unsigned. However, considering the material it was found with; considering that is dated five months prior to Maggie’s marriage to Charles Edwin Nuckolls and ; considering that Charles Edwin Nuckolls (b. 16 Jul 1851) was a teacher and principal by profession and was born and raised in Whiteville, Tenn, I feel that it is safe to assume that this love letter was written by Charles Edwin Nuckolls to Margaret Virginia Blain prior to their marriage. He was 29, she was 20.
Ken Nuckolls – 16 Sep 1999
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July 3, 1880
How delightful the pleasure to be at home again with loved ones, amid the beauty and splendor of childhood scenes recalled. But Oh!, how sad the thought to know that I am so far from the little blond, whose beauty, loveliness, and winning smiles ever hover around my memory like the golden haze of departing twilight around the setting sun. It seems that I have been transported into a new existence and that my life is being changed from the dullness and loneliness of a teacher’s life to that of the purity and happiness of a dreamer’s life – ever dreaming of thee. Even at the writing of this, I am dreaming a day – dream and in that dream, methinks I can see along the rugged pathway of our future life, bouquets of love and happiness thrown at our feet, to be gathered up by us as we slowly plod along its extended journey; arm in arm; heart beating to heart; lips pressed to lips. Besides, I can see our little boat of wedded life, floating down the stream of time gathering love and happiness in still more abundance as we smoothly glide along.
Just think, Little Darling, how happy we will be when we start on our journey together. We will not kiss then, by the hundred, as we have so oft before, but by the thousand. Every passing Zephyr that gently fans our young brow and cheeks, shall speak of love. Every little bird that sings in the forest grows shall sing to us sweet songs of happy love; and every glittering star that shines above shall envy the little world of happiness that we will make here on earth below. I wonder if these words will bring so much as a little sign of love from thee, if so, happy am I. I care not what others may think or say, so long as I have the thoughts and love of one little blonde.