JULY 15, 1937
NEW YORK, Wednesday—Mrs. Morgenthau and I had a delightful time with Miss Lillian Wald yesterday afternoon. On Miss Wald's seventieth birthday here in New York City, they did some very fine things for her—a park will always bear her name, and various other friends did things for Henry Street Settlement, but her neighbors in Westport got together and made a book for her, one of the most interesting books it has ever been my pleasure to see.
Westport is the home of many artistic people, but this included the names of all her friends, even if their talent was only that of being able to love another fine human being. They all signed their names, those who could draw, drew pictures, those who could write, wrote verses and prose, and I think that book will be for her a joy in many hours when she perhaps would not have the energy to take up any occupation, or even to look at anything new.
I was interested in the cover of this book, nicely worked in cross-stitch, but designed so that many of her daily interests were right there for you to pick out. Two little Scotties down in the corner; the ducks which waddle down to the pond and eat chunks of bread up near the house; the birds of peace looking at each other, representing Miss Wald and Jane Addams, and many more amusing little reminders of a busy life full of associations.
We were back in time for a swim before dinner, and then we sat out on the porch looking over the garden and the swimming pool to the hills all around, the light of a young moon rather dim as the sunset colors were fading out, but becoming brighter as the daylight left bathed us in a fairy light. Nothing else to see or hear, but white clouds scooting across the sky and the wind sighing in the trees. While we sat, young Henry went in and played the piano just inside the window—"The Moonlight Sonata;" some Schubert, "Old Man River," many things old and new floated out and life was calm and peaceful.
This morning Mrs. Scheider and I drove into New York for my last broadcast tonight. We had scarcely reached the apartment when I heard the sad news of Senator Robinson's death, and called my husband at once on the telephone. Senator Robinson was a fine man and will be a great loss to his friends and family and to the country which he served with his colleagues in the Senate. I am sorry for Mrs. Robinson particularly who is away because of her brother's death last week in Arkansas. Misfortunes seem rarely to come singly but somehow strength comes with them.
I have some appointments this afternoon to see several people, and I am looking forward very much to broadcasting with Mr. Hendrik Willem van Loon tonight. He is always a joy to be with, and even a chance to talk with him on the air in agreeable! After it is over we will wend our way back to Hyde Park.