Greetings, my friends, this beautiful September day.
Don't you love the crisp air of Fall? The trees are beginning to shed their 1948 costumes, and are saving up for a spang new spring outfit. The sight of dead leaves falling used to sadden me a bit. But that was before I understood God's plan; nor is it in me to grasp the wonder of it. But each new day we see a little farther. Every falling leaf carries with the nourishment for a new leaf. The tree is not dead, but sleepeth. He seals his tiny pores against the winter's blasts, and awaits, with dignified patience, the fulfillment of God's plan. This idea that nothing ever really dies was brought home to me this morning, when I read the brief but pungent weekly article by Rev. Don D. Tullis, called "Everyday Religion." Rev. Tullis, former executive secretary of the Cleveland Church Federation, is now pastor of Tourist Church, Daytona, Fla. They tell me that he has been trying for twelve years to retire, but the church won't let him. His articles are gems of wisdom and inspiration. I hope many of you find them in your own city paper. This morning's 4 x 5 inch column has to do with "Dead Coals." Dr. Tullis, from his hill-top home, was watching a freight train haul away an old, worn-out locomotive. This once proud, powerful engine, that had pulled a million cars along the rails, was now being hauled ignominiously to the scrap heap. But is it dead and done for? No, sir! As Dr. Tullis wrote, "The End of the old is the beginning of the new." It goes to the furnace fires, and from these fires comes forth a new creation - a better engine than the last. From his valley view Dr. Tullis turns to the streets, and sees there the old, worn-out wrecks of men, once powerful, winning men, victims of too much toil and the rustage of the years, being pulled along the tracks they had mastered in their time. "But from the scrap heap of the years," he writes, "they, too, shall come again, to master greater loads, to master steeper grades... If steel and iron can come through furnace fires and live again, think you that man can die? "Death! The word is meaningless... There is no such thing. The dictionary of God contains one word - that word is LIFE."
Before I close, I want to send along one of those hyacinths for the soul -as well as the dear little blue forget-me-nots of kindness shown our wee grand-daughter, Dianne, and Virgil and me. The reason I speak of this is because Dianne (so far) is a changed little girl, since being "exposed" to the gentleness of my friend, Mary Pollock, of Marion Center, and the sweetness and love showered upon her by the dear ones on Point Pleasant. I know, by experience, that kindness to a child is never lost. The hyacinth is in the form of a visit at Ina's from James Lytle and his very attractive wife, Emma, of Bartow, Fla. James (he says I may call him "James" now) looked quite natty in his two-toned sport jacket, a token of affection from his children upon retirement from "remunerative employment." My gentle teacher of long ago looks more and more like his dear mother. And there again is the perpetuation of life. Speaking of her - among friends who loved her dearly - he said, "She had that quality called 'compassion'." That is just the word; that wonderful human sympathy and understanding. Saltsburg would always be dear to me, if only because of her.
In memory of her I want to send a book, "A Guide to Confident Living," by Norman Vincent Peale, D.D., that is said to be one of the most helpful books of our time. I learned about it only this week, and did not have the money along to purchase it. But I shall get it this afternoon, read it, and send it on the Saltsburg Library. May your Fall drive be a great success. And I think Miss Anna Rupert deserves an orchid for her faithfulness.
Florence B. Taylor
Next - 10/7/48 - Virge visits from Spokane WA
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