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and beyond that, more and more, and on and on our pathways go, to what ends we know not, nor can we even guess. All we actually have is NOW and it seems to me that we should make of NOW, all we have within our power to make of it regardless of what its circumstances may be, for NOW is an ever changing panorama dissolving forever into scenes anew, and who dare say what these scenes may be, may tell, may mean? We have NOW and our duty is to make NOW all we can, trusting that what there is for us in life will be shown to us, and happy in knowing that we are making the most of what we have. There is so much to be done with our own lives, so much of discipline and improvement and education, we should always be busy preparing, always preparing for something, usually we know not of, but something all the same. And so it seems, dearest little Mother, that you still have much to live for. You are not old. Many years are ahead for real living, years of maturity and appreciation of life. Who knows what the years may bring? The possibilities are infinite. You have lived, have known great happiness, and also great sorrow; you have lived fully and you have lived well. You have nothing to regret, for you have sacrificed much, and bravely, gladly, nobly. These are the years now when you should take great comfort in the knowledge of having done well, and find new strength and new interest in life from that knowledge. I hope you will find happiness and satisfaction in my happiness and success. Oh, Mother dear, you must be happy, your life must be full! You deserve everything good, for yours hasn't been an easy game, and you have played it well. ...... Took a walk down to the lake this afternoon in a snow and wind storm. The lake is just one vast expanse of snow and ice, gray and forbidding, and today it melted away into the grayness of the storm that was raging over it. The shore is very precipitous out here: rather like Star Island, and one can sit up on the high bluff overlooking the water, and gaze away and away. It must be beautiful in the summertime, but now it is almost depressing. I did not stay long. 

[[underlined]] To Mother, February 22, 1926 [[/underlined]]: As I told you last night, I accompanied Allende to his "Bohemian" boarding house for dinner Saturday evening. After the meal, we went into the little parlor, so outwardly drab and commonplace, but sheltering a treasure of music such as few people have, and played a few things. Allende chose a Spanish song called "Princesita" (the Little Princess) sung by Tito Schipa, and it was really most Spanish and most fascinating. Then we played two things from "Tosca" by Caruso that were marvelous. To complete our little concert, I chose "Goodbye Sweet Day" and as I listened to it, that beautiful service at Shoals came vividly back to me, recalled as nothing else could, by that song. I told them about that service and I think they appreciated its beauty. They have literally hundreds of Red Seal records. I had quite a talk with Allende later and learned something of his family. His grandfather was