19-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Tuesday, December 1, 1914:
The Twenty-fifth is near, December’s on the way,
And thoughts of presents nice and dear fill every passing day.
‘I wonder what I’ll get’ is what we often think
Until the day has dawned again all rosy and pink.
The last month of the year. I must hurry and fill up the remaining pages of this diary by writing silly nothings in it.
Brought my dress home. It suits me to a T. Ma doesn’t seem to like it very well, but maybe she will when she sees it on me.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
WHAT YOU ARE WRITING ARE NOT SILLY NOTHINGS! I know that you can’t possibly understand, but THEY ARE IMPORTANT THOUGHTS.
In any case—Even if you think your words are silly, please be generous with them. Someone will care about them someday.
P.S. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that your mother will like the dress after you model it for her.
Monthly Poem in Diary
Grandma began each month of the Diary with a poem. See this previous post for more information about them:
I’d like to thank all of you who took a moment yesterday to write a comment about why you regularly visit this blog. I’m amazed by the varied reasons that you visit—and I’m humbled by your kind, heartfelt words.
And, I think that Grandma would be absolutely astounded that so many of you read her words and story—and , I also think that, in her quiet way, that she’d be thrilled that people still remember and care about her a hundred years later.