March Fifth

Dear Mr. Trustee,

Tomorrow is the first Wednesday in the month--a weary day for the John
Grier Home. How relieved they'll be when five o'clock comes and you
pat them on the head and take yourselves off! Did you (individually)
ever pat me on the head, Daddy? I don't believe so--my memory seems to
be concerned only with fat Trustees.

Give the Home my love, please--my TRULY love. I have quite a feeling
of tenderness for it as I look back through a haze of four years. When
I first came to college I felt quite resentful because I'd been robbed
of the normal kind of childhood that the other girls had had; but now,
I don't feel that way in the least. I regard it as a very unusual
adventure. It gives me a sort of vantage point from which to stand
aside and look at life. Emerging full grown, I get a perspective on
the world, that other people who have been brought up in the thick of
things entirely lack.

I know lots of girls (Julia, for instance) who never know that they are
happy. They are so accustomed to the feeling that their senses are
deadened to it; but as for me--I am perfectly sure every moment of my
life that I am happy. And I'm going to keep on being, no matter what
unpleasant things turn up. I'm going to regard them (even toothaches)
as interesting experiences, and be glad to know what they feel like.
'Whatever sky's above me, I've a heart for any fate.'

However, Daddy, don't take this new affection for the J.G.H. too
literally. If I have five children, like Rousseau, I shan't leave them
on the steps of a foundling asylum in order to insure their being
brought up simply.

Give my kindest regards to Mrs. Lippett (that, I think, is truthful;
love would be a little strong) and don't forget to tell her what a
beautiful nature I've developed.

Affectionately,
Judy

LOCK WILLOW,
4th April

Dear Daddy,

Do you observe the postmark? Sallie and I are embellishing Lock Willow
with our presence during the Easter Vacation. We decided that the best
thing we could do with our ten days was to come where it is quiet. Our
nerves had got to the point where they wouldn't stand another meal in
Fergussen. Dining in a room with four hundred girls is an ordeal when