APRIL 17, 1936
WILLIAMSBURG, Va, Thursday—A friend sent me the following extract from her scrapbook the other day:
"The cardinal flaunts his crimson wing in the languid sunshine and sings out his throbbing heart to a pulsing world.
"The urge of bursting life behind the bud renews in us the knowledge that we are but parts of a never changing plan, and despite the trials that beset a burdened humanity the world goes on with the eternal music of the spheres, and even in our chaos we know that all is well.
"We cannot say that the morning fulfills our every wish, or that by simple effort we can reach out and touch the stars, but we do know that there is a healing in the winds, and that in the great arch of the sky there is the eternal shelter of the infinite.
"So, despite, despairs and losses, man as well as nature is clothed with new ideals, new hopes and renewed faiths, and we cast away the sere leaves of disillusion to put on the ever vernal truths, that through the ages past, have been good for men to live by, and so go forward into a new springtime of life."
It seems to me that this (is) particularly appropriate for many of us to remember at Eastertime. It seems so hard at times to forget the past, to detirmine to think of the present and the future, and not to waste one's energy in regrets. We must learn our lesson from nature and begin again with every Spring.
We got away from Washington this morning at 11 o'clock and drove down along the Rappahannook River to Gloucester Point, took the ferry to Yorktown and reached Williamsburg, Virginia, about 4.30. We stopped for a picnic lunch, picking out a spot near a creek, a bit of lawn and some trees by a brick house which had burned down. A breeze was blowing and it was just heavenly—one of those days which make you glad just to be alive.