.ODg.MjI3MjE: Difference between revisions
imported>Robert Roth No edit summary |
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The months I spent at the south seem like a terrible dream to me. I'm glad they are past and really I think I can do just as much good here as there. At any rate I think its better for me to be here where I can | The months I spent at the south seem like a terrible dream to me. I'm glad they are past and really I think I can do just as much good here as there. At any rate I think its better for me to be here where I can [[unclear]] myself. On my desk as I write are [[unclear]] roses whose fragrance reminds me of the beautiful Summer time and also [[unclear]] of the loving little heart which presented the gift, albeit the face and hands were anything but clean. I wonder sometimes as I look in the face of these children what the future has in store for them. Over some may be the flowers will bloom ere they know aught of life's great sorrows, some few perhaps will fill states of trust and honor but the majority will probably plod [[unclear]] unknown outside their little circle but each one are a part of God's great plan and the dear [[pious?]] died for the all. God grant that not one may be missing on the day when he makes | ||
[[unclear]] myself. On my desk as I write are | |||
[[unclear]] roses whose fragrance reminds me of the beautiful Summer time and also | |||
[[unclear]] of the loving little heart which presented the gift, albeit the face and hands were anything but clean. I wonder sometimes as I look in the face of these children what the future has in store for them. Over some may be the flowers will bloom ere they know aught of life's great sorrows, some few perhaps will fill states of trust and honor but the majority will probably plod | |||
[[unclear]] unknown outside their little circle but each one are a part of God's great plan and the dear [[pious?]] died for the all. God grant that not one may be missing on the day when he makes | |||
Revision as of 15:21, 3 November 2020
5 The months I spent at the south seem like a terrible dream to me. I'm glad they are past and really I think I can do just as much good here as there. At any rate I think its better for me to be here where I can unclear myself. On my desk as I write are unclear roses whose fragrance reminds me of the beautiful Summer time and also unclear of the loving little heart which presented the gift, albeit the face and hands were anything but clean. I wonder sometimes as I look in the face of these children what the future has in store for them. Over some may be the flowers will bloom ere they know aught of life's great sorrows, some few perhaps will fill states of trust and honor but the majority will probably plod unclear unknown outside their little circle but each one are a part of God's great plan and the dear pious? died for the all. God grant that not one may be missing on the day when he makes