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Unclear Dec. 1 1851 My dear Parents, As I fear you are becoming anxious about me, I feel as if I ought to write, even if it be but a very short letter. I have nothing very interesting to say excepting that I am getting better; which I think, is as interesting as any thing I could have to say. But to prove that I am better I will just tell you what I have been doing. You remember sometime ago I mentioned that I was making a card basket?, I have got that almost finished, it is all unclear and a little wreath that I am going to mark at the bottom. It is going to be a [smart unclear]] little thing when I get it done, but it is a great deal of work to make it, a good deal for me unclear. I have done something else, besides; I have knit a unclear cap for Ann, my dear nurse. She is so good to me, is kind and tender in everything, that it made me very happy to be able to do, even so little a thing for her. She takes care of me night and day, after getting up these unclear nights to keep up my fire; remember, I did not call her up, but she does it of her own accord. I am sure she could not do more for me if she were my own sister. Six months yesterday I left? my own dear home unclear the sorrow had just disappeared, and now it has just returned; the gay, beautiful days of summer have intervened, the flowers have bloomed and faded, and unclear Nature has once more taken up her rich green carpet, which she had then just spread and which was fast sprawling drawn? with the golden flowers of early spring, and has prepared herself for the rough wilds of winter, all this has passed, all these strange but beautiful changes