A Light in the Darkness

Sam stood by the window, his now graying hair blowing in his eyes. He brushed it away impatiently; He had more important things to think about.

It had been fifty years now, fifty long years since his beloved master had left him and sailed over the sea. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could remember his master’s face, smiling sadly as he turned away from the shores of Middle Earth and left forever. He gave a shuddering sigh. What he would give to see his dear master Frodo again...

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw his wife, Rosie, with a concerned look on her face. “Sam? Are you alright?”

Sam smiled at Rosie, but his eyes stayed sad. “You’re thinking about Frodo, aren’t you?” Rosie said, voice full of understanding.

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I didn’t know Frodo half as well as you did, Sam,” Rosie said, “But I know you, and I could tell how important Frodo was to you. After all you went through together...” She trailed off. “It’s been fifty years now, hasn’t it?”

Sam’s hair blew into his eyes again, and again he brushed it away, but this time his hand came away wet with tears. He nodded.

“Stay here for a moment, Sam,” Rosie said, and left the room. Sam obeyed her and stayed, but he wondered what was so important.

Finally, Rosie returned. “The morning you two left for the Havens, Frodo gave this to me, and said to give it to you in exactly fifty years. I thought he was joking at first, but his face was so serious that I agreed anyway. Now I see what he meant. So this is a gift from Frodo, just long delayed.” She held out a small box with a scroll tied to it.

Sam’s hands shook as he reached for the box. Rosie put it in his hands and squeezed them gently before letting go.

First, sam opened the scroll. His eyes teared up as he looked at the script on the paper, knowing that Frodo had written this for him fifty years ago. It was different than looking at the Red Book, because that was meant for anyone. But this was for him...He brushed impatiently at his tearing eyes again and began to read.

My Dear Sam,

If you are reading this, it should be fifty years since I left. That is a very long time, and I am sure you miss me, as much and maybe more than I miss you, all those miles away across the sea. This note was to say that, even though it didn’t seem like I noticed anything you did for me, that whole journey through the Black Land, it was just that I was too weak, tired, burdened to thank you for it. Now, at long last, that is what I am doing.

Thank you, Sam, for all that you have done for me. You helped me make it through that terrible time, when my soul was being eaten and destroyed slowly by the Ring. You helped me get better in Rivendell after the wound from the Morgul blade. In Shelob’s Lair, you followed me up to the very top of Cirith Ungol, not truly knowing if I was dead or alive, and you risked your life because of that. You carried me, tired and hopeless, up Mount Doom, and led me out after I was maimed and bleeding. You have done so much for me, and what did I do to thank you? I left.

I am sorry, Sam, for not thanking you for your good deeds sooner. You will follow me someday, and sail across the sea yourself, but not today. This is not the time. You still have more to do in this life.

Tell Pippin that I’m glad he finally found his courage, and tell Merry that it doesn’t hurt to talk about your worries.

- Frodo

Sam smiled through his tears. With trembling fingers, he opened the box.

Inside was a white jewel on a silver chain. Sam gasped as he realized this was the very jewel that the Lady Arwen had given his master on the day of their departure from Minas Tirith. He lifted it in his fingers and studied it. It looked the same as it had fifty years ago when Frodo had worn it.

He looked back at the box. It was beautifully carved, made by the elves was his guess. Then, he realized there was another note inside the box. He lifted it out and read:

This jewel I give to you. I will not need it anymore, since I shall be healed in Valinor. Keep it with you always. If ever you feel disheartened or dispirited, take it in your hands. It will help.

Goodbye, dearest Samwise.

- Frodo

Sam looked up at his wife and kissed her. “Thank you, Rosie,” he said.

“Sam, it wasn’t me that gave the gift. It was Frodo. I just passed it on to you. Now, it’s late. I’m going to go to bed.”

Rosie squeezed Sam’s shoulder and left the room. Sam looked at the beautiful elven jewel, and lifting it, hung it around his neck.

He went to the window and before closing it, he looked up at the stars, tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness of the night sky. As he closed the window, he wondered if somewhere, miles away across the sea, his dear Frodo was looking up at the same stars.