| July/August 1991

Hi! I want to thank all of you for your kind words of caring and sympathy in the death of my husband. I know there are many out there who can identify with me. We all know that death is a part of life, but I guess we do not realize the impact of it until we ourselves are involved in this heart-rending part of life, especially your life partner. I just imagine one never gets over it fully, but we must go on and cherish the past memories as one has to accept a different way of life. I am so glad I depend completely on my faith in God, his son Jesus, and the love of my family and friends. It helps a lot but it isn't easy, and it hurts. Well, on to each day of living, and it helps to know many of you understand.

I know by now many of you are in your glory either already on the road to the Steam and Gas activities, or checking your calendar and packing to get-a-going. Have fun, enjoy your old and trusted acquaintances, but leave a little space and time for the new enthusiasts you may meet. Who knows? You may be the deciding factor to these folks as to whether they accept and continue in this hobby, or write it off as not being as beneficial and enjoyable as they might have anticipated.

You know I love Wellsprings of Wisdom writings and excerpts by Ralph L. Woods, and the stories of men encountering God, life and themselves. Sparkling messages presented in parable that capture life's lasting values, and will bring the reader back to the book again and again. (If you ever know where you can buy this book, please let me know. I have inquired many places, but no one seems to be able to acquire it.) They make great gifts.

This time I have chosen 'The Inner Light'. Two children living happily in their father's house would often look at evening to another house standing on a distant hilltop. The evening sun painted it with glory as its rays were reflected from many windowpanes. One afternoon they started out to visit the house of the golden windows. They struggled over fields and through brush and woodland until at last the moment arrived. They stood before the enchanted house of their dreams and their hopes. But alas! They found it deserted and bleak. Dust and slime of many years had covered the panes of glass. They gave forth no golden splendor. The house was lonely, cold, forsaken. Disappointed, discouraged, afraid, they turned to go. As they did so their eyes fell on their own home in the distance bathed in the golden splendor of the setting sun.

They saw this and more than this. Their sad experience had taught them to realize the inner light, not the reflected light, which shines in every home worthy of the name and makes it one of the brightest and dearest spots on Earth, a refuge, a joy, a hope, and forever a happiness. But it was under the spell of the light reflected from its windows that they caught the full vision of the inner and true light and glory of home. And they both cried out: 'See our house; our own home is the true house of the golden windows.' Ignatius W. Cox.

And now, Dear Ones, on to the center of the column which makes it so worthwhile: your communications.