As the summer of 1968 moved into autumn, the Vietnam War dominated our nightly news. Nate went back to law school, continuing with his ROTC commitment, and I went back to teaching kindergarten in Chicago.

It was a tumultuous time for our nation with violence erupting even on college campuses, but Vietnam wasn’t the only war going on.

On a more finite level, I was experiencing my own inner war, attempting to handle an 18-month relationship with someone I should never have fallen in love with in the first place. But knowing what’s right and acting on it can be miles apart. Meanwhile, the letters between Nate and I became more frequent.

Sept. 10, 1968 – Dear Meg. Thank you for your letter. I applied for and have now become a graduate advisor in an undergrad dorm, which at the moment has me rather nervous. There was a demonstration at the student union; police arrested 300 students. This makes me quite edgy. I would like to come to Chicago, but this job leaves me few weekends. I definitely would like to see you again. Absolutely love to.

Sept. 19, 1968 – Nate, you sound like you have your hands full down there! We heard all about the arrests on the news. Be careful! Tonight I’m miserable with 102 degree fever.

Oct. 17, 1968 – I am very sorry to hear of your sickness. Take all your medicine and sleep a lot. And read your Bible, little girl. This counseling job has a million men (actually 72) depending on me at different times for many things. Such as letting drunk boys in their rooms at dawn. Be good and rest, my little vixen.

Oct. 20, 1968 – Dear Nate. Your letter came at an opportune moment. Today is a blue day for me. I’m through with my strep throat, but I’m really going buggy. I think my dating (the other guy) is dragging me away from the joy of the Lord. There is a constant struggle within me to tell him we should break up and not even be friends, and then in the next minute we are arranging another date. Inside, I know it’s useless, actually detrimental, to keep our relationship going. But don’t worry about me. I’m trying to let the Lord handle the whole situation, even whatever is happening in my mind about (him)…. and also about you. I know I have been trying your patience, and I apologize. P.S. What does “vixen” mean?

Oct. 25, 1968 – “Vixen” means she-fox, beautiful and sly. When you write that you’re upset about (the guy’s) soul, I only can tell you to resolve it with your faith, which I think is stronger than love of any man. And let common sense tell you that snap decisions lead to unhappiness. If you don’t want to quit dating (him), at least date someone else, too.

Oct. 31, 1968 – Nate, thank you so much for your last letter. I have read it over and over, and its encouraging nature was a terrific aid to me. (The other guy) and I are totally finished as of one week ago. The initial grief was shattering. In idle moments I still find my mind wandering to, “Oh, if only…” When the heaviness of the heartache eventually lets up, I hope I will consider myself better off for having gone through it. I’m relieved that the break has been made. (He) opposed it, which made it worse for me, but thank goodness the Lord was backing me up… and people like you.

“Love does not dishonor others.” (1 Corinthians 13:5)