Over sixty years ago, a World War II soldier mailed a Christmas card from overseas to his sweetheart. That card has finally arrived–but to an address now called home by Samantha, a young missionary awaiting her next assignment. Inspired by the card's amazing journey–and the tender message of its sender–Samantha searches for the card's rightful owner against the odds.Her best hope seems to lie with Ty, a wounded soldier sent home to finish his career behind a desk. Feeling trapped, bitter, and alone, he wants nothing more than to bury himself in his work. But Samantha's quest draws him into the world again as he helps her search for the soldier and his long-ago sweetheart.With the holidays approaching and only a slim chance of finding the truth, Samantha and Ty find themselves taking chances with both their faith and their hearts to deliver a Christmas miracle in the form of a special card from long ago.Excerpt from The Last Christmas Card:There were only two other people in the cafe as Samantha sat in the corner booth thumbing through her Bible. A man sat at the counter chomping into a sandwich, while a college boy chatted on a cell phone at a window table.The next customer who entered wore a faded jacket with a military emblem on the sleeve. A pair of jeans and worn sneakers, hair close-cropped to reveal a short scar traveling along his temple.When he spotted her, he crossed the room with a firm stride that favored his left leg. Pausing with a slight smile when he reached her table."Miss Sowerman?" he asked. She nodded."You must be Sergeant Lars," she said, closing the leather cover and placing it aside. "I'm Samantha." She held out her hand.He shook it, then slid into the booth across from her. "I guess I was expecting someone a little ... older." She wondered why he said that, since the only notable thing about their phone conversation was her persistence. Perhaps it was to cover for the fact that, despite her semi-shabby casual attire–a camp t-shirt, a pair of khakis–he kept staring at her. As if he found something striking about her corkscrew blond hair and clear complexion."Maybe you expected me to be older because I'm asking you about somebody from World War II," she said, with a smile. "I know it may seem a little odd, but it's important. That's why I'm trying to find him."She pulled a piece of paper from her bag. "This is it," she said. "It's a card, actually. I know, because I steamed it open." With a blush as she admitted this.He took hold of the envelope and studied it. A yellowed piece of paper with colored stamps and cursive letters forming the address. The flap was partly open, so he lifted the edge and pulled the card from inside. A blue and white folded sheet.She watched his face as he read it, studying his haggard features, the curve of his jaw. He was still young, but there was something old in his attitude. A look of sadness in his face even when he smiled. Right now, his expression was serious as he gazed at the lines on the paper. The lines around his mouth softened as he carefully folded it again."See what I mean?" she said. "I want the right person to read those words. I know they're supposed to be private–that I wasn't supposed to open it. It was meant for whoever lived in my house sixty years ago."