Merely Puppets

I don’t always keep up on this blog as regularly as I should but I’m much better on my facebook page and my instagram page which are both under Sally’s Diaries.

11:10 P.M. November 16th, It is cold again tonight, near freezing I imagine. I get so cold near morning I cannot sleep and I’ve a comfortable bed and plenty of covers to keep me warm. There seems to be no circulation in my feet and legs and I cannot keep them warm. I have been busy today and I am glad for that but I am not pleased with what the evening brought. It is always the same, always the time comes when I am hardly worth the air I breathe, and I am always sorry it is so. Man may expect much as great blessings to come from his religious zeal; but I do not believe man is ever worthy of the sanctity which he endeavors to build about himself. We are all very much alike, merely puppets. “Ilya toyed skuisya” 11:25 P.M.”


Hattie’s Words

I must explain why the delay in my blog, yet another delay I might add. Still working on my new diary adventure. For over 30 years now I’ve been buying, collecting, reading and researching “other peoples” diaries and letters and in that 30 years I’ve been so moved and blessed by what I’ve learned. So much, that for quite sometime I’ve been looking for a way to really share the words of others. Although I can’t say right now, I believe I’m getting closer to a fabulous project that might enable me to share worldwide.

Just recently a woman asked me, “How has reading other peoples diaries affected you?” I’ve never really thought about this until she asked me and for the last few weeks have reflected on that very question. It would take me pages upon pages to really describe how this diary world has affected and also changed me. I guess if I had to sum it all up, the main thing that I have learned is that we all have a story and an important one at that. That in itself helps me to stay focused on what’s important and not to judge or criticize someone because I have no idea what they’ve been through in their life.

I just got through ready two diaries written by a 40 year old woman by the name of Hattie. She began her diaries in 1893 and I must share one of her passages…..

September 24th, 1893. Mrs. Whitney says something like this; If one is genuinely introspective, she will not be so upon paper. I wonder if I write with the idea that someone, sometime, will read what I have written? Truly, I have no wish that somethings should be read and criticized. And I know of late it has been almost impossible to write my best thoughts, in fact, it has been quite impossible. I cannot measure my growth, if growth there be. Like a child that pencils her height from time to time on the wall, neither can I keep an account of the daily happenings in my monotonous life. They will only signify in what they make of me. Nevertheless, I have from time to time written of some actual experiences or some thought has come to me that I wished to remember; sometimes a half awakened dream or vision that may in time be fully revealed to me in all its meaning and beauty. Had I a dear, dear friend who loved me dearly and would read my journal in love, I do not think I would object. And I think hereafter I will write with that thought in mind. That I am writing to my dearly loved friend who is to be mine, manifestly, in God’s own good time, is now safe in the Lord’s knowledge and leadings, perhaps across the world or years away in time to come. Still sure to come, as we or when we are fitted for each other. “Be still and know I am God.””

Jenna's Photos of My Diaries 025Am I Hattie’s “dear, dear friend” who was “years away in time to come”? I could only hope and pray so.

Death seems Dear

(Sally here: Again, I make apologies for not blogging sooner. My world has been a bit full lately concerning my diary business. I can’t say exactly right now what I’ve been doing but my adventures might make it possible for me to share my diaries in a bigger way. Lots of meetings lately and in November I head to England for more meetings. So, with that said, I’ve been a busy, and very excited girl. More to come on that subject but really more importantly, it’s John’s turn……)

“10:35 P.M. November 15th, Sitting by the fire alone. Cora and Bethine are asleep. It is colder tonight. I do not want to go to bed. I cannot keep warm and so I sit by the fire and wonder a great deal about life until I cannot longer stay awake. Now there is no planning for the future, the days bring only what they may. I cannot seem to bear my loss without grief and bitterness in my heart; I am still too much a coward to face life bravely and make the best of it. Such changes life brings and life seemed so dear I was afraid of death. Now death seems so dear and I am afraid of life and yet I live. How easily I might end my life but we are taught it is wrong to do so and so I do not. I wonder if cowardice holds me back? I suppose. “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:55 P.M.”

(Sally here: WOW….. “life seemed so dear I was afraid of death. Now death seems so dear and I am afraid of life and yet I live.”)

Sally here: Well I’m back….finally. And what a passage to come back to. November 14th’s entry is heartbreaking and so beautiful. Bless your heart John….

11:25 P.M. November 13th, I

It is getting late. I must be in bed soon. The drive home from Ft. Worth this evening has left me tired but I do not want to go to bed. Pat had such a nice dinner today. I’m sorry I could not eat more to make her feel as tho I appreciated it, when it was for my birthday. The white and yellow chrysanthemums I took to Greenwood today were so pretty; I take them for her; she loved flowers so. If there were only still her loving arms to receive them. How I worship her yet; if it is wrong then it cannot be helped. I can be no different I wish I was only half as good as I try to be. “Ilya toyed skuisya” 11:40 P.M.”

10:20 P.M. November 14th, How precious memory is and yet how it makes the heart ache again. This evening I got out my little drafting board to sketch some plans of another airplane model which I intend to build; the little board which she used to hold in her lap when curled up in her rocker and there write letters to mother and daddy and to me if I should happen to be gone for a day. On the back of the board is her name in her own handwriting. It made my heart beat faster when I saw it but just beside her name is the faint pencil lines of a hand, my hand which I laid on the board and she traced the outline around it. It all came to me as quick as a flash and the little love pats which she gave my hand. I could hardly refrain from bursting out sobbing. Oh God! How could you take her away? Please let me go to her! “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:35 P.M.”

Please forgive the delay again in my postings. I’ve been in the process of cataloging all my diary and letter collection and it’s a huge process but I’m loving it. I purchased two large safes, which holds about half of what I have. Heading now on a family vacation for a few days and hope to post a passage when I get back. Hope you’re all having a fabulous summer.

Summer Cataloging

(Sally here: Well, It’s been a while hasn’t since my last entry. I keep saying I’m going to get better but this new adventure of mine is keeping me pretty busy. Part of this adventure that I’m embarking on is that I’m in the process of reading, researching and cataloging all the diaries in my private collection; no easy task but I’m having so much fun doing so. BUT, I’m not giving up on my blogs and hopefully this new project of mine will enable me to share more and more diaries. I appreciate all your patience with me. Sal)

10:20 P.M. November 12th,1927

It is only Sat. night again. It is much colder. Winter will soon be here. To what end does man finally come? It is always puzzling to me. I want to know, so I must want to die. Man can find the answer no other way. And yet I shall always seek so long as life remains. I work hard; I am always busy; it does not tire me greatly only at times, but it brings not the relief or peace of mind which means rest. I am a devil indeed. Tomorrow I can take so many lovely chrysanthemums to Greenwood. She always loved flowers, they shall not be wanting to beautiful her little plot so long as I am able to make the trip to Ft. Worth. If I was not here there would be no flowers for her. Some day I’ll be resting too. Perhaps then we may chase the moon together. “Ilya toyed skuisya.” 10:35 P.M.”