One more scene in the drama of life! Now I mustn't tell the above story without giving you its sequel. I became so interested in this woman and her problem that I forgot to get off at my stop. She had brought her 11-year-old girl here from Youngstown, OH. Naturally, she was filled with a mother's panic. Having implicit confidence in Cleveland surgeons, I gave her every encouragement. Before we parted, she said it was a great comfort to talk to me, because so many had shaken their heads and said that maybe it was God's will. The following Thursday I went to visit the beautiful girl - so brave, in a big, strange hospital. Her mother was allowed in only during visiting hours. The next morning the child was operated on. The following Saturday, when I saw her, she could talk and move around in bed. It seemed Marvelous. Nine days later she went back home - to a sister, two brothers, and a father who fairly worship her. What a reunion! Such is the miracle of modern surgery! ****
One of the loveliest things came my way last week. (This is now May 8th.) You remember my writing of the old loved song, "Learn a Little Every Day." Mr. James Lytle of Bartow, Florida, wrote that his wife found the song "from beginning to end." He told me the name of the book and its compiler and assured me that if I couldn't find a copy, he would copy the song for me. Well, I searched the Main Library and all the large music stores - until one man, who had investigated six months earlier, said it was no longer in print. I wrote Mr. Lytle to that effect, and asked him to please copy it for me. Last week a brown envelope came, marked, "Do not Fold," and inside was the treasured song - in its original setting - cut out from the family song book (with Mother Lytle's consent.) Needless to say, that little song sheet is priceless. I brought it with me to the hospital, and here are the words:
Little rills make wider streamlets, Tiny seeds make plenteous harvests,
Streamlets swell, the rivers flow; Drops of rain compose the showers;
Rivers join the mountain billows, Seconds make the flying minutes,
Onward, onward, as they go. And the minutes make the hours.
Life is made of smallest fragments - Let us hasten then to catch them,
Shade and sunshine, work and play; As they pass us on our way;
So may we, with greatest profit, And with honest, true endeavor,
Learn a little every day. Learn a little every day.
Let us, while we read or study,
Cull a flower from ev'ry page;
Here a line, and there a sentence,
'Gainst the lonely time of age.
At our work, or by the wayside,
While we ponder, while we play,
Let us then, by constant effort,
Learn a little ev'ry day.
- J.F. Kinsey (Class and School - by A.G. Child)
Virgil sent a notice of my "incarceration" to Mr. Walker, so that you would feel sorry for me, and send letters and cards. But, confidentially, this is a "racket." I'm having the time of my life. However, I DO need the messages, and will pour over them like an old lady in her second childhood.
In checking over my Sunday School girl's quarterlies last Saturday night, I came across one lesson that still affects my risibles. In a lesson on "Thankfulness," one written exercise (kind of a dumb thing) was to take the initial letters of your name, and with those initials, write names of things you are thankful for. One little girl, whose last name was Allyn, put for her two l's: Lord - Lamb chops. The two seemed a bit incongruous; but since coming here, I am impelled to be grateful for all the love that God puts in human hearts - and I'm also thankful for my "lamb chops," which interpreted, means "wonderful meals." With my best wishes to you all,
Sincerely yours,
Florence B. Taylor
Room 217, Huron Road Hospital
E. Cleveland, Oh
Next - 5/30/40 - Shining Armor