When I was growing up, there used to be a pond over across the street in back of Richardson's Lumber. I don't know if the pond is there any more, but we used to go down there to catch frogs and some of the boys had built a couple of rafts to float around on. One day, I climbed on one of the rafts, one that was pretty well falling apart and started drifting out into the pond. I got out too far to go back and whomever I was with ran up the hill and home to tell Mother. She came with Mrs. Painter (A neighbor) and her boots but Mrs. Painter wisely knew that there was no way to wade out to get me because the pond was really swampy.

She got her son Kenny to come down. Kenny got on the other raft and poled out to get me and he saved me.

Isn't that a nice story. When Kenny started kindergarten, a few years before he saved me, he took me with him one day for something like show and tell.

The Painters are lovely people and I have fond memories of them.

Her is a little poem by R. S. Thomas

I think that maybe
I will be a little surer
Of being a little nearer.
That's all. Eternity
Is in the understanding
That that little is more than enough.

Sunny today so we bought plants and I even planted a few.

Love

Mary