JULY 8, 1941
NEW YORK, Monday—I find that there is a lack of realization that the aluminum which you and I are collecting, must be held and not turned in until the date which has been set, July 21st. Trying to turn it in now is a bad plan apparently, for some patriotic housekeepers have been used by some junk dealers, who found it very pleasant to collect aluminum and make some money out of it.
So you and I may prepare by obtaining our new pots and pans in some substitute ware for our aluminum utensils. We must not turn the aluminum in until some person officially designated to receive it is announced by Mayor La Guardia.
It began to rain yesterday afternoon, but in spite of that and heavy traffic, three of us managed to make our way up to Mrs. George Huntington's for a very pleasant evening. I was presented with three beautifully colored postcards of the grounds and cottages, which Mrs. Huntington's maid and chauffeur had colored with infinite care.
Today we are off for New York City, and it will be a busy day. I shall have to tell you more about it tomorrow, for I only know that I am to be on the steps of the City Hall at 11:00 o'clock. From there on, the Mayor and I participate in functions together for about an hour and a half.
I keep receiving letters from people who head the Women's Institutes in England, an organization which is comparable to our Home Bureaus, and which is affiliated with them internationally. The letters tell me what the seeds we sent have meant to them.
Yesterday I received a letter from a woman with whom I went to school in England and who lives on the coast there. I quote part of her letter:
"It is splendid to feel that your great country realizes so fully what we are up against and there is a lovely feeling of kinship with all the peoples who are banded together to overcome this embodiment of evil. Indeed this is a righteous war and a crusade to save those who are oppressed. We are all sacrificing everything gladly for the sake of freedom and to save goodness, kindness and self-respect. Life here is curious, such an odd sense and a realization of the impermanence of all material things and possessions. One sows seeds, one plants and cultivates with a detached feeling, wondering subconsciously whether one will be there to reap the crops or whether their progress will be hastened by a bomb."
I can hardly realize that the little girl I remember could have written this letter, but it is one worth our considering. Impermanence for certain things is not so bad if we can count on permanence in our real values.