When gloomy clouds across the sky / Cast shadows o'er the land, / Bright rays of hope illumine my path, / For Jesus holds my hand.

As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful.

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas time.

Mr. Wilder says he would rather have me help than any man he ever sawed with. And, believe me, I learned how to take care of hens and to make them lay.

I always have been a busy person, doing my own housework, helping the Man of the Place when help could not be obtained; but I love to work. And it is a pleasure to write. And, oh, I do just love to play!

In the bitter cold weather Pa could not be sure of finding any wild game to shoot for meat. The.

We crossed the James River and in 20 minutes we reached the top of the bluffs on the other side. We all stopped and looked back at the scene and I wished for an artist’s hand or a poet’s brain or for even to be able to tell in good plain prose how beautiful it was. If I had been the Indians I wold have scalped more white folks before I ever would have left it.

The wings and the golden weather and the tang of frost in the mornings made Laura want to go somewhere. She did not know where. She wanted only to go.

Oh, Charles!” Ma said. “What will we do?” Pa slumped down on a bench and said, “I don’t know.

Pa promised that when they came to the West, Laura should see a papoose.