Well' Francie Decided, 'i Guess The Thing

And You Must Tell The Child The Legends I Told You - As My Mother Told Them To Me And Her Mother To Her. You Must Tell The Fairy Tales Of The Old Country. You Must Tell Of Those Not Of The Earth Who Live Forever In The Hearts Of The People.

She Went Out And Took A Last Long Look At The Shabby Little Library. She Knew She Would Never See It Again. Eyes Changed After They Looked At New Things. If In The Years To Be She Were To Come Back, Her New Eyes Might Make Everything Seem Different From The Way She Saw It Now. The Way It Was Now Was The Way She Wanted To Remember It.

She Had Had The Pain; It Had Been Like Being Boiled Alive In Scalding Oil And Not Being Able To Die To Get Free Of It

Who Wants To Die? Everything Struggles To Live. Look At That Tree Growing Up There Out Of That Grating. It Gets No Sun, And Water Only When It Rains. It's Growing Out Of Sour Earth. And It's Strong Because Its Hard Struggle To Live Is Making It Strong. My Children Will Be Strong That Way.

From That Time On, The World Was Hers For The Reading. She Would Never Be Lonely Again, Never Miss The Lack Of Intimate Friends. Books Became Her Friends And There Was One For Every Mood.