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How lovely of you, dearest Marie1, to keep up May3's old greeting to me with the Christmas wreath! It not only brings me memories of her, but news of you. It tells me that you are well and about, and that you cherish the circle of the friends4 on Murray Hill5—those of us who are left. I am ashamed to be so tardy in thanking you, when 2the fragrance of that wreath has perfumed my sitting room6 for so many days. I tried to telegraph you the day after Christmas, but the operator refused to send any message that had not to do with "War or Business". Our lives have come to that!
Last night I took Ethel7 to the Russian restaurant for dinner. She had just returned from Washington8 and looked very tired. She has been with 3her daughter Ethel9 for four or five weeks.
On July 24th
Dr. Whipple10 took out my gall bladder
and appendix at the Presbyterian Hospital. The operation was highly
successful (no drainage tubes or any of those horrid things) but afterward I had four pretty uncomfortable
months. I lost sixteen pounds, and I for
hated every form of nourishment. All that is behind me now. About a month
ago I began to enjoy food and, as it were, to meet up with my own
personality again. It had lain in some storage
house somewhere during all that time. I never had an hour in which I felt
like myself in mind or body. Then, presto! I wakened up.
This is a poor letter, dear, (and a devilish pen) but it takes to you loving thoughts and happy, happy memories.
Devotedly Willa Miss Mary Willard1 864 Francisco Street San Francisco11 California NEW YORK N.Y.2 JAN 10 1943 430 PM