Your mother and I love you very much, and we miss you dearly ever since you went to prison. I especially miss you now that spring is here, and it is time to plow the fields. The ground is hard, and my back is old. I am afraid I will never be able to plant the crops in time.
Your loving father
Do not dig in the field. That is where I hide that thing. You know I can not say what it is because they read our mail. Just do not dig out there.
The cops came out and dug up my fields. They said they were looking for something. Thanks, son. It looks like I will get the crops planted.
Your loving and grateful father