Hello Honey,
I have been going to write to you ever since the day after
Thanksgiving but did not find the time. Dad blew in on us for Thanksgiving
dinner. He had a very good trip and if all his trips are as good he will get
along OK. I think he is going up north sometime this week. Bill Schloth called
me and I was glad to get word from you.
Sorry I did not get to talk to you last night, but Mrs.
McCune is working for you and don’t fail to report. In Nahum 1-9 we are told
“What do you imagine against the Lord? He will make an utter end: affliction
shall not rise up the second time.” The truth is positive, it doesn’t do things
by halves. There is no past, and no future, the ever present eternal now, is
all good. We are told on page 400 12-10, “Eradicate the image of disease from
the perturbed thought before it has taken tangible shape in conscious thought,
alias the body, and you prevent the development of disease. The task becomes
easy, if you understand that every disease is an error, and has no character
nor type, except what mortal mind assigns to it. By lifting thought above
error, or disease, and contending persistently for Truth, you destroy error.”
Judge Hill in his last lecture referred to the mortal body as matter-stuff. Man
is not made of matter-stuff, he is made of substance. There is not the tiniest
atom of matter in your being, therefore you can have no material organs. In
this week’s lesson we are told “There hath no temptation taken you but such as
is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted
above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape,
that ye may e able to ear it.” God neither fainteth (sic), neither is weary,
there is no searching of his understand. Wish you would take a few minutes to read
393-8-24, 495:14-24, 471:1-5.
I must go to the basement now and do the wash, I don’t think
there is very much. Don’t fail to let us know how things are dear. “The eternal
god is thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.” I went to First Church
yesterday. Lid and Ralph were over for dinner. Love and Kisses - Mother
Dearest Mother,
It certainly seemed good to hear your voice today over the phone. Before long, now, I shall be home where I can hear it for quite a spell.
Things are apparently alright with me this evening. Old man fear has departed to the place where he belongs and I have control of the situation again. Thank you so much for your help. I shall most certainly have to drop in on Mrs. McCune this vacation and express my appreciation toher. I never seem to have time to write, so that is the next best think I can do.
Grandma sent me some cookies, and I have written her a nice long letter of thanks. I know that I do not write them often enough, and I am sorry. I have had such a busy quarter, that it has kept me from writing those letters that I should write. But I will neglect my California correspondence a little more and write to some other people that deserve my attention for a change.
I received a letter from Ann today. Her father has to go to Seattle, so he is going to drive her up. They will arrive in Portland on Saturday night, the seventeenth. I guess he is bringing June, too. June wishes to see her little Manila friend in Portland, and so they are going to make a party of it. Ann will of course stay on at our home and be with us for Christmas.
I will come home sometime on Saturday, the fifteenth. I am driving home with Bill Russell. We are bringing Bob Thornton with us. I used to know Bob in High School. He was older than I and ran around with Jean and Bill. He went to Stanford and since graduating from there he has started in to the law school here. He is a heck of a nice boy.
Saturday evening, we are going to have our annual Xmas party here, and it will no doubt be a riot. Some of the presents are not of the type of article that one presents in fine circles, but then that makes it all the funnier. We draw names, and I have the good fortune to have the big fat kids name, Bill Connel.
I must away to the law school, Mom. I will not write to you anymore, so until the fifteenth, then.
Love, George
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