Dear Auntie,–I little knew what a sweet surprise was in store for me when I wrote to you yesterday.
As I awoke this morning my good Doctor L. came in with the lovely azalea, her round face beaming through the leaves like a full moon.
It was very dear of you to remember me, and cheer up my lonely day with such a beautiful guest.
It stands beside me on Marmee's work-table, and reminds me tenderly of her favorite flowers; and among those used at her funeral was a spray of this, which lasted for two weeks afterward, opening bud after bud in the glass on her table, where lay the dear old "Jos. May" hymn book, and her diary with the pen shut in as she left it when she last wrote there, three days before the end, "The twilight is closing about me, and I am going to rest in the arms of my children."
So you see I love the delicate flower, and enjoy it very much.
I can write now, and soon hope to come out and see you for a few minutes, as I drive out every fine day, and go to kiss my people once a week for fifteen minutes.
Slow climbing, but I don't slip back; so think up my mercies, and sing cheerfully, as dear Marmee used to do, "Thus far the Lord has led me on!"
Your loving
Lu.