Sometimes when we were silent for a minute we could hear the water bubbling in the kettle, a log falling in the fire, the cricket’s shrill voice, and, outside, the wind sweeping against the window. I love these snug winter evenings, the silence, the sense of intimacy, when my fancies can wander far afield and return safe to the home nest.
I have been making up my budget for the last year, and I find that in six months I have lost all that I possessed; my wife, my house, my money, and my legs; and yet, absurd as it sounds to say so, on striking a balance, I find myself as rich as ever. How can that be, when I have nothing?
No burdens, would be nearer the truth; for I find myself lightened of care, happier, freer than the wind that blows; I would not have believed it, if, last year, any one had predicted what would happen and that I should take it in this spirit. I had always sworn that whatever came, to the day of my death, I would be master in my own house, independent, owing nothing to any one but myself. Well, we do not know what a day will bring forth. Things turn out so differently from what we intended, and we are nevertheless content.
Man is a wonderful creature and all is grist that comes to his mill. Happiness, suffering, feast or famine, he can adjust himself to any of them. He can go on four legs or on one; he may be deaf, dumb or blind, he will still manage to get along, and see, hear and speak in the depths of his own soul. Everything is shaped and formed by that soul of his, and how delightful it is to have such a mind and body! To feel that if need be one can swim like a fish, fly like a bird, bathe in fire like a salamander, or wrestle successfully with all four elements as man does on the ground. In this way we gain through our losses, for our minds can supply what has been taken away, so that the less we have the more we are, as a pruned tree grows stronger and more beautiful.
The clock strikes midnight.
Hark to the Christmas hymn, “Unto us a Child is born.”
Epiphany.
It really is a joke how I keep on adding to my possessions now that I have nothing at all, and the secret is that I have learned to enjoy the riches of others, and so have none of the drawbacks.
I have read horrid stories of poor old fathers who stripped themselves of all their goods for their children’s sake, and then found themselves neglected and forlorn, conscious that their wicked offspring already wished them dead and buried. I can only say that these unfortunate old men must have mismanaged the whole thing, and, for my part, I have never been so well looked after, so much loved and petted as I am now in my poverty.
I kept some things from my prosperous days which are better than gold and silver. I have my good spirits still, and lots more treasures that I picked up in the course of my life; gaiety and sharpness, wisdom and folly. I have enough for all comers, so if my children give me a good deal, they get something back, and if the account does not balance evenly, we throw in affection for good measure.