Saturday Eve -

All week I have been thinking that I would like to gather up some of the choice hyacinths that have come this way, fix them up in a bouquet, and send them along for you to enjoy. Now in the brief hour that is left I can gather only a few - and they won't be artistically arranged. But you will overlook the lack of art, and enjoy each "flower". The first is a New Year's resolution, that is about seven weeks tardy in delivery to you - but is good for the whole year. It comes from my dear friend in Marion Center - Mary Hopkins Pollock, who was so very ill a year ago last fall and winter, but has made a complete recovery. On the back of the card on which she gives her son, Herbert's, army address (in Germany) she writes:

Give me a good digestion, Lord,	But finds a way to set it right.
And also something to digest.	Give me a mind that is not bored -
Give me a healthy body, Lord -	That does not whimper, whine, or sigh.
With sense to keep it at its best,	Don't let me worry overmuch
Give me a healthy mind, O Lord,	About the fussy thing called "I,"
To keep the good and pure in sight -	Give me some happiness from life -
Which, seeing sin, is not appalled,	To give to others, passing by.

Apropos of the lovely song that Alice Franklin sang in church last October, "Be Still and Know", one of my readers writes to say that she and her family knew well the author of the words of that beautiful song. In fact, he was the lady's beau for six years. (It seems a pity they didn't marry.) She says, "He lives what he preaches, too... and spends hours each day studying the Bible." He urges his friends to quiet their minds for the reception of God's word.

My good friend, James R. Lytle, of Bartow, Fla., writes in one of his priceless letters, "You know Ruskin says we can make nests of pleasant thoughts, from which we can fly into whatever these dark days may bring." "To quote him," says Mr. Lytle, 'Bright fancies, noble histories, faithful sayings, satisfied memories, storehouses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us - houses built without hands, for our souls to live in.'" Isn't that beautiful? I wish there were time to quote more inspiring thoughts. By the way, what has become of our poet, Charlotte McCall? I trust she is well. It is time for another of her good poems. Now I must sign off for this week. With best wishes to you all,

Sincerely yours,
Florence B. Taylor

Next - 3/7/46 - "A Bell for Adano"
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