18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, December 26, 1913: My music teacher didn’t come this morning, perhaps on account of the snow. There was a white Christmas after all. It came in the evening.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Snow! What a beautiful way for the 26th to dawn. The beauty of fresh snow after a brown Christmas (at least during the daylight hours) must have been wonderful antidote to any post-holiday blues.
The music teacher came to Grandma’s house to give her piano lessons? When Grandma had previously mentioned the lessons, I’d always assumed that she’d gone to the teacher’s home.
Sometimes I don’t even realize what I don’t know something until I read a diary entry that makes me realize that I’d previously misinterpreted it.
It’s amazing how a word here and there over multiple diary entries across the course of time fills in the pieces of the puzzle.