Dear Papa by Anne Ylvisaker Page A

can’t change history,” I told her. She sent me to my room for the duration of the evening. Don’t worry, I’ll stick by you no matter what.
    For the duration. For the duration — everyone says that about the war. I think it must be heaven to be in peace and not lick one war stamp or savings stamp into a book ever again.
    Your girl,
    Isabelle
    February 26, 1945
    Dear Papa,
    Frankie is Catholic! We went to Mass! In the Catholic Church!
    Mama signed a paper when the priest blessed them that said all the children they have together would be Catholic. That showed no foresight, which she is always saying I need to have.
    The Mass was for Frankie’s baptism. All Mr. Frank’s family was there from the picnic last summer. We were the only ones from our family there. They had to call Frankie “Francis” just for the baptism because all Catholics have to have a saint’s name and “Franklin” isn’t a saint. “What about the president?” I asked. “He’s Franklin.”
    “He’s not Catholic, and besides, there’s more to it,” Mr. Frank said. “For one thing, you have to be dead to be a saint.” I hope there is no Saint Isabelle so I don’t have to worry about the Catholics wanting me for their church.
    I do kind of like Frankie even with the crying and messes. I feel bad that I won’t see him in heaven. Irma told me so. At least he’ll have Mr. Frank.
    From the Lutheran side of the house,
    Isabelle
    P. S. I can see why the Catholics like to go to church, though. They have lots of little candles that anyone can light and ceilings nearly to heaven and colored windows. Those women who decorate our church should peek in for ideas.
    March 5, 1945
    Dear Aunt Izzy,
    This is a holy card. Remember the sister I told you about with the ears? Well, I saw her again, and the rest of Mr. Frank’s family, because Frankie got baptized. Sister Carmelita gave me a stack of these cards. They are all about saints and I have read them, every one. I don’t think I should throw them away but it can’t be right for me to keep them. Would you please write me what you think I should do? My friend Mary says to keep them would be a sin but to give them back would be impolite. I could take them over to the orphan home or use them in an art project or bring them to Jimmy. Or should I give them back?
    Catholics (except Jordahls) seem to have a whole pile of kids in every family. Do you think that Mama will have more babies now that half of her marriage is Catholic?
    Wondering and waiting to hear from you,
    Isabelle
    March 19, 1945
    Dear Papa,
    Mama won’t give up on the “Papa Frank” thing. Was she this stubborn when you knew her? Mr. Frank has not said anything to me about it. But to do my part for peace, I have found a solution. I will now call Mr. Frank nothing. I won’t call him “Nothing.” I just won’t say anything. There really is no reason to say a name for him at all. “Please pass the butter” (if it weren’t so rationed) works the same as “Please pass the butter, Papa.” No one will notice, even.
    Love,
    Isabelle
    March 22, 1945
    Dear Papa,
    Three days and my plan is still working! I have not called Mr. Frank anything. I had a close call tonight when I needed to ask him a question and he was reading the paper. I coughed loud, which until this time has worked (he’s a doctor, you’ll remember). I went and stood by the fireplace in front of him. Nothing. I straightened the picture on the mantel rather loudly. Still he held the paper in front of his face. Finally, I walked past the side of his chair and accidentally bumped him. He had fallen asleep reading the paper! He woke up with a jolt and said, “What’s the matter? What’s the matter!” By then I’d forgotten what I was going to ask so I told him Mother needed him and went upstairs and here I am.
    From,
    Isabelle
    April 10, 1945
    Dear Papa,
    Do you hear everything we say? If so, were you listening today just before dinner? If so, I didn’t mean to hurt