LETTERS FROM THE PAST

This blog is to honor those who have come before us. These are family letters that I have had for years and wanted to be able to share them with family. It's an interesting way of knowing how life was in the past.

LETTERS FROM THE PAST

Myron F Taylor with 3 of his buddies in 1952. Over the last 20 years I've been working on our family letters. Letters that have been passed down. Including letters from my parents to my great-grandmother. Every letter was saved by my great grandmother and grandmother. I hope someday to either print them or give them to a museum. I am copying the letters–not being able to photocopy all of them. Each letter is in script. I know today very few can read them. I hope you enjoy them.

Friday, October 27, 2017

I TRUST YOU’LL TREAT HER WELL

I TRUST YOU’LL TREAT HER WELL

WORLD: I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress…with two blue eyes….

And a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.

I trust you’ll treat her well.

She’s slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning and skipping off down the street to her first day at school.

And never again will h be completely mine….

Prim and proud, she’ll wave a young and independent hand this morning, and say goodby and walk with little-lady steps to the nearby schoolhouse….

Gone will be the chattering little hoyden who lived onl for play, and gone will be the delightful little gamin who roamed the yard like a proud princess with nary a care in her little world.

Now she will learn to stand in lines..and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called…

She will learn to tune her little-girl ears for the sound of school bells, and for dead-lines…      She will learn to giggle and gossip…. And to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little boy across the aisle sticks out his tongue.

Now she will to be jealous…and now she will learn how it is to feel hurt inside..and now she will learn how not to cry….   No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch while an ant scurries across a creek in the sidewalk…Or will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn to kiss lilac blossoms in the morning dew.

Now she will worry about important things…like grades…and what dresses to wear…and whose best friend is whose…Now she will worry about the little boy who pulls her hair at recess time…and staying after school..and which little girls like which little boys….And the magic of books and knowledge will soon take the place of the magic of her blocks and dolls.   And she will find new heroes……


For five full years I’ve been her sage and Santa Claus…her pla and playmate…her father and friend…Now, alsas, she’ll learn to share her worship and adoration with her teachers (which is only right)… And no longer will I be the smartest, greatest man in the world….   Today when the first school bell rings, she’ll learn how it is to be a member of the group….with all its privileges, and, of course, its disadvantages, too. 

(No author to this note. I believe it was written by my father - Myron Taylor)
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