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missing or unreadable text | missing text noted with "[illegible]" |
uncertain transcriptions | word[?] |
notes written by someone other than Willa Cather | Note in another's hand |
printed letterhead text | printed text |
text printed on postcards, envelopes, etc. | printed text |
text of date and place stamps | stamped text |
passage written by Cather on separate enclosure. | written text |
What a wonderfulbeautiful Christmas present you sent me,!
aA letter which told me of your wonderful two-weeks trip through western
Nebraska3, holding services day and night in the scattered
missions, with all the members of your so-widespreading flock gathering to bring
children and grandchildren to their beloved Bishop.
Your letter has lain for all these weeks on a little table beside my bed where I always keep about half a dozen letters which I like to read over and over. Not many of them have such a triumphant lift as yours. It is a letter I shall always keep, because it is such strong testimony that good things triumph and fine effort is recognized even in a world which is now so darkened. Your Christmas letter awakens joy in my heart, and will always be treasured by me. I am glad you remembered the little church4 in Red Cloud5 where you confirmed me6 with my father7 and my mother8. I think of that service and that church very often. I haven’t many friends left in Red Cloud now, and I hear the little town is very much changed. Perhaps it is better to remember it as it was in those days of happy family reunions, when everything breathed love and confidence.
Just after the New Year came in, my right hand9 collapsed a
again, just when I had been working so happily on my new book.10 I am allowed to take off the brace11 for one hour a day to sign letters
and business papers. Please ask your doctor to explain
to you the results—and causes—of inflammation of the
sheath
of
the
big
tendon of the right thumb. Then you will understand
the true condition of my annoying disability, and you will not be deceived by by the rumors which float about Red Cloud, to the
effect that I have been paralyzed in the right arm. I’ll tell you something, my
Bishop; when no man rejoices in his his neighbour’s
misfortune, then there will be no more wars.