Dear Mother Lytle:
On July 28 - the day this newspaper comes off the Press - you will be eighty-five years old. Through its printed pages I want to send greetings and good wishes. You have scores of friends who wish you well, and who, like myself, recall the countless acts of kindness, the strong loyalities, the tender sympathy and understanding - the endearing and enduring qualities that are YOU.
May the sunset days be golden - with a radiance in your western sky that is a reflection of God's love, and your faithful response to, and manifestation of that love. Happy Birthday! And be good - until I see you - in two weeks.
Lovingly,
Florence B. Taylor