The Sight Of Me Is Good For

Christmas Is A Time In Which, Of All Times In The Year, The Memory Of Every Remediable Sorrow, Wrong, And Trouble In The World Around Us, Should Be Active With Us, Not Less Than Our Own Experiences, For All Good.

In The Moonlight Which Is Always Sad, As The Light Of The Sun Itself Is--as The Light Called Human Life Is--at Its Coming And Its Going.

Heaven Knows We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our Tears, For They Are Rain Upon The Blinding Dust Of Earth, Overlying Our Hard Hearts. I Was Better After I Had Cried, Than Before--more Sorry, More Aware Of My Own Ingratitude, More Gentle.

The Appearance Presented By The Streets Of London An Hour Before Sunrise, On A Summer's Morning, Is Most Striking Even To The Few Whose Unfortunate Pursuits Of Pleasure, Or Scarcely Less Unfortunate Pursuits Of Business, Cause Them To Be Well Acquainted With The Scene. There Is An Air Of Cold, Solitary Desolation About The Noiseless Streets Which We Are Accustomed To See Thronged At Other Times By A Busy, Eager Crowd, And Over The Quiet, Closely-shut Buildings, Which Throughout The Day Are Swarming With Life And Bustle, That Is Very Impressive.

Do Not Close Your Heart Against All My Efforts To Help You.