Having read the text Bill Sprocket's land, you are now to write a short letter to your lonely, old man explaining the mess you've got yourself into. What could you offer him instead of the dream he has had all these years? (approximately 100 words) Publish your letter and your offer to him as a "kommentar" please.
Dear father,
SvaraRaderaOne often say that you learn from your mistakes in life. I hope that there is some veracity in that statement. But so far, it is not. It is with big remorse I am revealing the following for you. I am afraid I have been living a lie. I have not build a wooden house by the always water filled creek. I have no fair haired daughters. I still live alone in a lodging house. I wish all this was irrevocable, but nothing is. What I have done is indefensible. But despite the long distance between us, I have never felt so close to you as I do in this very moment. I do note want to change that. Do you?
Since the beloved mother of this family has passed away, it is with big hope I am expressing my wish that you could come and visit me. We could sit and look down at creek in which my dream house wood be. Together.
I hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive me.
Yours sincerely,
Bill Sprocket
Dear father.
SvaraRaderaI have made a mistake.
It is probably the biggest mistake I have ever done in my entire life and I regret it from the bottom of my heart. I know that my previous actions are not in the spirit of our family.
My anxiety is beyond words and therefore I have a confession to make.
I have spent the money on gambling and other needless things.
I do not own any land and I do not have a beautiful valley. I do not possess a woman named Peggy and you are not a grandfather.
All of the things I have been writing to you are not true.
I am filled with anguish and I certainly understand if you do not forgive me.
I hope that we can work things out by conversation and still have a beautiful father and son relationship.
Yours sincerely,
Bill Sprocket.
Dear Father,
SvaraRaderaBefore you are coming to live with me, there is one thing I have to reveal. There is no beautiful land of mine, neither a stunning rivulet in my possessions. I do not have much, but what I have I want to share with you. The money you sent me I let slip through my fingers, which I am truly sorry for. I wish I would have act differently, but I am not more than human and I made a mistake for which I will always regret.
I am missing you father and we both need each other now.
Yours sincerely
Bill Sprocket.
Dear father,
SvaraRaderaThere's something I've to say before you are coming to live with me. What I've been writing to you this past time is'nt quiet true. I don't have a beautiful land of mine, niether a wife, kids or a nice home. The money you sent me I've been using for things I truly reget. I'm sorry for my bad behavier and all my lies, it was all just a dream trying to make you happy.
Please forgive me, I wish this never had happend.
Yours sincerely,
Bill Sprocket.
Dear Father,
SvaraRaderaHere I am, writing you this letter, knowing how much I'm going to hurt you, but I can't keep lying to you. The money you sent me, its gone. But not the way you thought I spent it. I gambled them away, and now I've got nothing left. Knowing how proud you were of me, this hurts so deep within me, and you have to know how truly sorry I am. I have no land of my own, I have no wife beside me and therefor no children. I've bin living a lie in these letters and it really did'nt occur to me until this day, knowing you're booking a ticket to come here, only to discover my big lie.
Remorse is haunting me. I am sorry, dad.
Love,
your son.
Dear father
SvaraRaderaI just want to start this personal letter by letting you know how much I love you. If someone told me 10 years ago that I would write you a letter like this I never would have believed them.
Ever since you wrote me about beloved mothers death I felt this odd feeling of agony in my stomach growing bigger and bigger after each day of lie went by, I knew it was time to divulge my biggest mistake ever.
Your savings of years is not being spent as you think it is, I do not have a wife or two beautiful children neither a house you so longed for instead I have a terrible addiction which seems to follow me everywhere I go. I do not know what to do however what I do know is this urge of being forgiven and I hope that you will one day.
Your remorsefully son
Dear father
SvaraRaderaI am writing to you in order to make a huge confession. Without trying to get your apology or sympathy; the things I have done are unforgivable. However I am simply going to tell you about how I spent your money and how I, until now, got away with it.
I have been living in a lodging house, in a shabby, dark room during all of our letters. I have no daughters, I do not even have a girlfriend. I am addicted to gamble, all of the money you sent me in order for me to buy some pieces of land and build a house, I have been gambling away. The worst thing is not that I have been lying about the beautiful land of mine and “my” fair-haired daughters. Or about putting up huge expectations for you and making you actually wanting to come and see this marvelous life of mine. The worst thing in this awkward situation is me, wishing you death rather then tell you all about this and see the disappointment in your eyes.
I know I neither do deserve your apology nor your understanding, but I hope that someday you will be able to look into my eyes again.
This is who I am.
I am sorry I let you down daddy.
Your contritely son
Dear father
SvaraRaderaI'm really looking forward meeting you again after all this years, however, there's something that I have to tell you before we meet, something that I couldn't bear telling you to your face.
That money you sent me are gone. I didn't buy that piece of land that I'm always talking about and I do not have a family of my own. The sad truth is that I'm alone and I gambled the money away.
I had the opportunity to buy this piece of land and every day since i've regretted not buying the land.
I understand if you are disapointed at me, so am I.
love
your son
Dear father
SvaraRaderaSeveral nights I've been laying sleepless, trying to come up with the best way to tell this to you. Words can not describe how ashamed I feel in this moment, but I have to confess. Father, my two daughters, your grand-children, are only creations of my dreams. So is my wife Peggy. They do not exist.
With deep agony I now also reveal that I've never owned a land of my own, nor a picturesque house with a red door and white curtains.
By living lavishly and foolishly I made sure that the money you sent vanished.
I know that there are no excuses for this. I just want to let you know that I'm still here for you. My biggest wish is that you, despite my lies, will come here. I miss you.
Love, Bill
Dear Father
SvaraRaderaI have done something I never thought I would do, I have lied to you and I am very sorry.
For the money you gave me I did not by any land. I have found the perfect place but it is sold long ago. I go up to the valley every weekend to see how the owner changes it and that is what I write in my letters to you. I am so sorry I really want to believe that the life in the valley is mine but it is not.
The money is soon gone I have gambled it all away. I have some of it left so if you want it back I can understand you.
I hope you can forgive me and you still want to come visit me I promise you I will take good care of you.
Yours sincerely,
Bill Sprocket
Dear father,
SvaraRaderaI’m not sure I can explain, but I’ll try.
In those letters I’ve wrote, I have mentioned that I have bought the land of our dreams. Explaining how beautiful the place is, there the wind softly blew and the sun shining at the valley and making the place look as a paradise.
I have not built a wooden house, as you told me and I don’t either have two daughters and a wonderful wife, this is just my imagination. I wish all of this was real, but nothing is.
But the thing is that I didn’t quite follow what you said about buying the land. When you sent me that money, I spent all the money on gambling and at the end I lost everything. I tried to retrieve what I had lost, but I didn’t succeed. Now a live alone on a lodging house, without anything, living in a world full of lies. Every letter I’ve wrote, was like a pain for me, because I was forced to lie to you father ever day.
I’m sorry father for disappointing you, and not making your dreams come true. But I wish I would have act differently, and I hope you could forgive me father for all the lies I put you through. I miss you father, and I hope you will come visiting me, so we can sit together looking at land of our dreams, the land we could have own.
Yours sincerely,
Bill Sprocket
Dear dad
SvaraRaderaI’ve been suffering for a long time now (not just over mom). There is something I have to tell you. Something I regret deeply. I’ve lied to you dad, under all these years, I’ve lied to you. About the village, about the woman called Peggy and about the two fair-haired girls. They are not mine.
Under all these years I’ve been dreaming, just like you, about the perfect life. Every Saturday I went looking down at the village, imagining it was mine, picturing me that lifestyle, but it isn’t dad. I have been living in a dream world.
Your savings have been spent on gambling. I can’t believe it myself, it was like an impulse because I was depressed, and later it became an addiction.
I am feeling so lonely out here dad. I wanted to make you happy and proud of me, that’s all. I’m very sorry dad. Could you forgive me? I really want to make it up to you. We could live together and I could save us money so that we could buy us a little beautiful house which we both have been longing for.
Love Bill
Dear father.
SvaraRaderaI do understand your great grief and disappointment in me. I do not posses any great lands nor do I have beautiful girls or the house of my dreams. I just couldn’t tell you about how my actual life was. Being aware of how you would like me to be and that I couldn’t reach those expectations I created this world that both you and I wish I had.
I’m ashamed of my lifelong lie to you and mother. My highest believes and wishes is that you one day can forgive and comfort me.
Yours sincerely
Bill Sprocket.
Dear father
SvaraRaderaI am writing you this letter with a deep sorrow, a sorrow that resembles to the very sadness we shared when my mother deceased.
I know that the following will be a misery for you, but there are some things that I must inform;
I have unfortunately gambled away the money that you sent me, which indicates that no land or house is owned by me, and I am sorry to say that there are no “peggy” or two little lovely daughters of my.
At this very moment I assume that I have awareness with what mortify truly signifies. I wish that you could find a way to forgive me.
Yours sincerely
Bill Sprocket.
Dear father,
SvaraRaderaMy dream that I have been sharing with you all these years, was actually a real dream.
It all began with gambling and I have not been quite fortune with it. Throughout the years, lying to you became normal, just like breathing is for everyone. I didn't lie in vain, in matter of fact,I lied so you could be proud of me and not feeling disappointed, i knew that would crush your feelings. Peggy and my two daughters, those are all in my dream aswell,ufortunately. If you now choose not to come and visit me, i understand. But there is this little thing called hope that keeps telling me you will come either way.
Your beloved son
Bill Sprocket.
Dear Father
SvaraRaderaIt is with a heavy and deeply troubled heart I write to you tonight, and I wish that you do not judge me for what I have done, because I did it for your sake, and for my own. But now it’s time to come clean, and bring forth the truth.
At this day I write to you with news about the land that I have been describing to you for all these years. But this time I cannot tell you about my wife or my daughters, no, I can’t even tell you about the beautiful garden, for even though all that I have told you before is true, it is also a horrible lie. The absolute truth is that the lad is not mine, and it never has and never will be. Neither are the fair-haired girls, nor the house, nor the beautiful woman.
I am still a lonely man, and I have been alone for all these years, living in a dirty lodging house and still working in the factory.
I now regret all that I have done, both to you and mother, and what I have done to myself.
Even though I do not own any land, or a house, I would still be very glad if you would come and live with me here, and we can sort all this out. But I would also understand if you cannot forgive me for my deeds.
With humble remorse, your son Bill Sprockett