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[The following poems are typed neatly on lined paper]
My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Of'times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I, the under side.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weavers skillful hands,
As the threads of gold and sliver
In the pattern he has planned.
unknown [penciled in]
"IF"
If you can keep your head when all about you,
Are loosing their and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
And make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait, and not be tired of waiting,
Or being lied about, not deal in lies;
Or being hated, not to give way to hating,
and yet not look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts to your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster,
And treat these two imposters just the same,
If you can bear to hear the truths you've spoken,
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or see the things you gave your life to; broken,
And stoop and build them up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winning,
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss;
And lose, and start again at the beginning,
And never brethe one word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn, long after they are gone;
And still hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to you "hold-on".
If you can walk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings-nor loose common touch,
In neither foe nor loving friend can hurt you;
If all men count with you, and none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
with sixty seconds' worth of distance run-
Yours is the earth and everything that's in it,
And what is more--you'll be a man my son.
Rudyard Kipling.
[on back of page in pencil]
If you can hold your self, when all threaten you
Mingled rain and sunshine,
Mingled smile and tear,
Mingled rose and lily
Clustered on his bier.
Rain-drops gently beck'ning
Flowers to lift their heads
In humble recognition
Of our beloved dead.
Shine-wondrous sunshine
Breaking through the gloom
To cast away the shadows
Reflected from the tomb.
Smiles shone that day somehow
Like sunshine through the rain
They cast away the shadows
And helped conceal pain.
Tear drops were in evidence
And those who loved him best
Wept silently within them
As they bore him to his rest.
Roses - lovely roses
That spoke as roses do
Of all that's good and noble
In a friend so tried and true.
Lilies - fragrant lilies
Above all so pure and white
Cause us to remember,
After darkness, comes the light.
GLA [in pencil]
"Pix" it, Daddy - "Pix" it,
Plaintively she said,
As she held her baby dolly
With a hair pulled off its head.
"Pix" it, Daddy - "Pix" it,
As the tears rolled down his cheek
My boy came running to me
When his balloon began to leak.
"Pix" it, Daddy - "Pix" it,
Most any time of day
My twins will call to Daddy
When things go wrong at play.
It's joyous work to "Pix" it
What ere may be the call,
Rocking chair or dolly
Choo-choo train or ball.
When my babies shall have grown,
To take their place 'mongst men,
May they still call on Daddy
To "pix" things for them then.
GLA [in pencil]
[inserted note on three pages of Wabash notepaper]
Had I kept a copy of the notes I wrote you upon you getting married, I might just send your gift it to you and save you having to read another. But frankly To be truly honest I like these special occasions that give me an opportunity to say "hello" in writing.
I've got a thought, and I'll impose on you by passing it on.
Life, like a fence, is built in sections. To be firm, and to stand the stress and strain of the years, the post must be of good material and sercurety fixed.
You set several posts since I first met you that night at your aunts. The first one when you "signed up" at J.C. . The second one, when you left J.C for State Teachers - and another one when you married Carter, and now you are about to set a new one leaving State Teachers and doing something else . may be entering
the business world. All these "life posts" are of good material and firmly fixed.
The little pickets in between these posts are made up of many many things sorieties - trips to California, a trip to Texas - many friends - Things mixed up - so pleasant -- some unpleasant things. All of the little pickets are not sound - some friends are untrue, some things go wrong, and we find ourselves going back from time to time mending our fence by replacing some of the pickets - that's life.
But just so long as the posts are sound, and firmly set, a life fence will stand in necessary repairs from time to time.
The life posts that I have seen you set of a good material so don't worry if you have to replace a picket now and then - everyone does, otherwise life might become menotonous.
Will you do me a favor? Buy Jaymie something you think she would like and deliver directly to her.
Thanks Sincerely
[Much of the remainder of the diary involves accounting and has been omitted from this web page.
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