NEW YORK, Thursday—Yesterday was almost entirely given over to personal affairs. Two people joined me at 9:30 and went as far as the entrance to the building where the U.S. Committee for the Care of European Children was meeting, in order to tell me some of their difficulties in attempted aid to liberal publishers and editors in Europe today.

I tried on some clothes, practically finished my Christmas shopping (except for the inevitable last things which keep popping up) and was home at my apartment for lunch. Three of my young cousins, whom I see rather rarely, were with me for a delightful visit.

After a little more shopping in the afternoon, I went to see Mrs. Samuel Barlow, who is very anxious that we should do a little more effective relief work along certain lines. I hope very much that it may be possible to work it out, for when you look at the newspapers, you realize how ruthless present conditions seem to have made people in the war torn countries.

There is hardly a ripple when one group wipes out an opposition group, so you cannot help feeling that it is necessary to keep alive the desire of people to be merciful and to help to alleviate suffering.

I dined rather late with some very delightful people at a French restaurant where the food is certainly superlatively good. The conversation was good too, and I enjoyed the evening.

Today I am gathering up the threads of all the unfinished shopping and attending to such unpleasant details as a dentist appointment.

I wonder if you feel as I do when I turn on the radio every morning to listen to the news from Berlin and London. It seems to me that those boys sent out from Germany to destroy innocent people in England, and the other boys of the RAF rising from the ground in their planes, trying to drive back the invaders, must occasionally want to rebel at the destruction which it is their patriotic duty to create.

Of course, for both of them, military objectives are marked on their maps. But they know that it isn't possible to be absolutely accurate and there must be moments when facing the actual results of their work must be difficult.

At least, the boys in the RAF can feel that they are fighting against great odds. Just as the Spanish aviators in the Loyalist cause performed extraordinary feats, these English boys, because of the odds against them, prove their extraordinary gallantry over and over again. We, who watch them and know what their victory means to civilization, must pay them the tribute of gratitude and admiration.

Whenever one dies, something good is lost to the future. We women, who are conservers of the race, must weep that so much gallantry and high-hearted purpose could not be of greater benefit to man.