"What are you going to write about today?" said my husband, as I sat down to the typewriter. "I had hoped to write something this week that would be of comfort to those whose sons or loved ones had given their lives in this war, and to all who are bereaved." "If I were you," answered Virgil in his gentle manner, "I wouldn't try to write a letter of that nature hastily." (And he knows I have only an hour and a half left out of the full week.) I can only hope that that incomparable message of Dr. Hutchison's gives you a sense of reconciliation to the tragedy of war. And I just hope you will send that message to some of the boys at the front. For some it may change their whole outlook, for even the most gallant. It should reinforce their courage. As I look out through the windows to the back yard, and the vacant lot beyond, the apparently dead trees are coming to life. The tiny red buds are swelling, and soon these bare trees will be dressed in fresh new garments. So it is with those who we say are dead. "He is not dead, but sleepeth," said Jesus, of Lazarus. That is just as true of your loved one. Dr. Hutchison says, "Then go forth to the good life, which is nothing less than conflict with evil." Our soldier dead have given their all to combat that evil. Great shall be their reward in Heaven.
To come back to the mundane things of this earth, don't forget about the little frogs in the crock of sour cream. One gave up at once, and sank to oblivion. The other struggled against impossible odds, and churned the cream to butter. Let's keep on fighting and fighting, no matter how great the odds, nor how weary the battle. God does reward the faithful. Now, unexpected visitors have shortened the writing time - and I must close. May the glory of the resurrection renew your faith, and glorify your daily living.
Florence B. Taylor
Next - 4/29/43 - Essie
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