Our sweet May waits for us up there, and is not going through our agony, thank God! Her bright, happy, sunshiny existence has been a bright spot in our lives—but oh! how short! I don’t touch on the anguish that fills me, for God in His mercy helps me, and it must be borne; but to-day, again, the fear and anxiety for Ernie is still greater. This is quite agonizing to me; how I pray that he may be spared to me!
His voice is so thick; new membranes have appeared. He cries at times so bitterly, but he is gayer just now.
To a mother’s heart, who would spare her children every pain, to have to witness what I have, and am still doing, knowing all these precious lives hanging on a thread, is an agony barely to be conceived, save by those who have gone through it.
* * * Your letter says so truly all I feel. I can but say, in all one’s agony there is a mercy and a peace of God, which even now He has let me feel. * * *
P.S.—I mean to try and drive a little this afternoon. I shall go out with Orchie. Of my six children, since a week none more about me, and not my husband. It is like a very awful dream to me.
November 22d.
Beloved Mama:—Many thanks for your dear letter, and for all the expressions of sympathy shown by so many! I am very grateful for it.
Dear Ernie having been preserved through the greatest danger is a source of such gratitude! These have been terrible days! He sent a book to May this morning. It made me almost sick to smile at the dear boy. But he must be spared yet awhile what to him will be such a sorrow.
For myself, darling Mama, God has given me comfort and help in all this trouble, and I am sure His Spirit will remain near us in the trials to come! Great sympathy, such as all show, is a balm; but I am very tired, and the pain is often very great; but pain can be turned into a blessing, and I pray this may be so. * * *
When alone, I rest; and writing even is a physical exertion. Those around me have spared me all they could, but one must bear the greater weight one’s self.