KC's entries for October 1967 begin ...

OCTOBER 1 SUNDAY (Sorrow is brief but joy is endless — Schiller)

I am producing a play (I’m the director) from Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado”. It is due on Wednesday. I will use the fancy stage and lighting. No costumes. I had to write the play, choose the cast, go over their parts with them, encourage the cast and keep their spirits up and think of sound effects. Oh, it was easy!

OCTOBER 2 MONDAY (When time flies it cannot be recalled — Virgil)

We’ve been getting ready for the play and tensions are high. I only hope we do well. With God’s help it shouldn’t be too bad.

OCTOBER 3 TUESDAY (Truth never did his master shame — Chaucer)

I stayed after for two hours today for practice with the girls. Really, they are very kind.

Hopefully I will be illustrator for the Keyhole, Fontbonne’s newspaper. Hopefully. Someday.

OCTOBER 4 WEDNESDAY (No one respects a talent that is concealed — Erasmus)

The play went off fine. Fortunately, we didn’t have gym. That would have been too much. No, all in all, they were quite good, especially Denise. Anne Marie Lewis and Pam Call also did a fine job.

Then October 1967 continues:

OCTOBER 5 THURSDAY (When all men speak, no man hears — Kelly)

Saturday is my birthday, but I got one of my presents today, from Mom. A lovely very, very nice pair of chukka boots.

It is impossible for me to get Clark’s because I have very large feet, so these will do very well. They are very comfortable. They are beige with white soles. Best of all they fit my size 10’s narrows.

OCTOBER 6 FRIDAY (Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well — Chesterfield) ↑ You’re kidding.

Tomorrow my birthday !

OCTOBER 7 SATURDAY (The will to do, the soul to dare — Swift)

My Birthday

Today I had the most marvelous day of all my 14 years. God was wonderful to me, He made everything beautifully. I got a lot of lovely books, 17 watercolor tubes, my chukka boots, $10.00 from Grandmother and $15.00 from Helena.

We went in town, first to Hammett’s*, where Daddy bought me me a wooden box to keep my paints in. Then we went to the Union Oyster House and Mommy bought me 18 fish cakes.

After that I had to decide whether to go to Jordan’s or the East India Shop and I picked the latter. I got some Coffee Toffees which were new and some marzipan which I always wanted to try.

On the way home I found a dime on the bus. The mail came early and I got a letter from Randi which I have waited for a long long time and some other mail. On our way home we stopped for pizza at Joe’s.

* Note: The J.L. Hammett Co. moved its retail store to Boston in 1865,

and then grew to 60 retail stores in 17 states, but ended up closing

all of these in early 2005 in favor of online retailing.

OCTOBER 8 SUNDAY (There’s a time to wink as well as to see — Franklin)

I am getting camel’s hair brushes to paint with. They are the best we can afford.

OCTOBER 9 MONDAY (Take the world as it is, not as it ought to be — German)

I’ve got nothing against people.

OCTOBER 10 TUESDAY (Some folks are wise, and some are otherwise — Smollett) ↑ I like that

OCTOBER 11 WEDNESDAY (Zeal without knowledge is fire without light — Fuller)

You can burn but give no light that others can see by. ↑

OCTOBER 12 THURSDAY (No great discovery was made without a bold guess — Newton)

1. Envy shoots at others but wounds herself.

2. Many are brave when the enemy flies.

3. Never mind

OCTOBER 13 FRIDAY (Who bravely dares must sometimes risk a fall — Smollett)

Today is Friday the 13th.

You know I have no idea really as to what I wish to become when I grow up? Truly I don’t. I think that I would like to be an artist but the Boston Art School has some weird characters according to Daddy. But I figure, if God wants me to do something in the art line it will be managed somehow.

And then October 1967 concludes:

OCTOBER 14 SATURDAY (Envy is a kind of praise — Gay)

I know from the pictures (if you can call them that) I don’t seem very capable as an artist but, really, I am better than that trivia. Those are just scribbles to help me to think.

I am giving myself a self-taught art course with the help of Daddy and sometimes Mom.

Constantly one must practice to get any good at art, but it is not painful (yet). I am trying fairly hard and even if it does not benefit me in the future (as I think it may) I will have accomplished some good thing.

OCTOBER 15 SUNDAY (Care and diligence bring luck)

Let out but no in. J. S.

You know, I wonder, if some artists let out their emotions on their easel but unfortunately don’t let them in to others.

Andrew Wyeth is a realistic painter, and so is criticized by many, yet his paintings show more emotion and make you feel it better than any other modern artist; in my opinion.

He says that realism without emotion is no good, such as Norman Rockwell does and I agree.

OCTOBER 16 MONDAY (Abundance kills more than hunger — German)

I have decided that my next year’s diary shall be principally concerned with my feelings about art and how I am progressing.

OCTOBER 17 TUESDAY (The smallest hair casts its shadow — Goethe)

As far as school goes I am not doing so well in History, yet History is a thing I am fascinated in.

OCTOBER 18 WEDNESDAY (Youth must shore up, age must use — Seneca)

From the past pages I have shown an immense and sudden interest in Art. This is true. I intend to become really good at drawing, although I have never heard of an artistic saint. Well, there’s a first time for everything.

OCTOBER 19 THURSDAY (The good abhor sin because they love virtue — Horace)

The world is good if you look and see.

OCTOBER 20 FRIDAY (It is not goodness to be better than the worst — Seneca)

It is cold out. A star glitters, no, not glitter, not shine; what? It . . . is. The streetlights send their silver glow on a quiet street . . . Beautiful.

I wrote a poem last night for English; I’ve never done much of that, but it came out good in the end. It’s about sadness: An old man is walking down a street, early in the morning. It is quiet, he is alone and he seeks something . . . It is better than this short description.

The English nun, Sr. Christopher Marie, liked it.

I love to make people feel, by my paintings and drawings, and by what I write. I want them to capture my mood.

If a picture, or story, or poem, makes you feel, makes you think, then it is well done.

OCTOBER 21 SATURDAY (Jealousy knows no loyalty — Spanish)

The nun who teaches English is quite nice.

OCTOBER 22 SUNDAY (Friendship is the bond of reason — Sheridan)

I paint and draw all the time, but I mustn’t let it interfere with God. That would cause static and I wouldn’t get the message so well.

OCTOBER 23 MONDAY (Think long when you may decide only once — Publilius Syrus)

I painted in watercolor a picture of a house on a hill.

The house is in Milton and Mommy took me up to see it and I drew a sketch of it.

I painted it and it came out nice. Mom is going to frame it in the living room.

OCTOBER 24 TUESDAY (Distrust is poison to friendship)

God is good to me. I still like St. Thomas. This is a bit of a record.

Not really though, I suppose. I can keep friends if I act decently. Besides saints are different.

OCTOBER 25 WEDNESDAY (All power of fancy over reason is a degree of insanity — Johnson)

I watched “The King and I” on television tonight. It was very good, but sad at the end because the king died.

My finger is in bad condition, because it is all red and sore. It was even infected, but now it seems to be healing. It is the finger upon which I wore my jade ring. The skin disease started about 2 months ago and kept up, even though I changed it to my other hand sometime ago.

Speaking of jade rings and so forth, etc, etc. as the King of Siam said, I wear that ring all the time. The only other jewelry I wear on a continual basis is the silver necklace with St. Bridget’s medal that Daddy gave me for my confirmation. Generally I dislike jewelry and those are the only two things I use all the time. I prefer silver over gold.

OCTOBER 26 THURSDAY (Feed sparingly and defy the physician)

I am sick of writing in this thing.

OCTOBER 27 FRIDAY (The dog with a bone knows no friend)

I did a picture of rose pips with oil pastels. It came out quite nice.

OCTOBER 28 SATURDAY (Nothing so much worth as a mind well instructed— Bible)

Christmas is coming.

OCTOBER 29 SUNDAY (A wild goose never laid a tame egg — Irish)

Thanksgiving first, though.

OCTOBER 30 MONDAY (Who doth no evil is apt to suspect none)

Hello !

OCTOBER 31 TUESDAY (A fine diamond may be ill set)

Dum de dum. Me. Dumb.

KC's entries for November 1967 begin ...

NOVEMBER 1 WEDNESDAY (Write injuries in sand, but. benefits in marble — French)

What could possibly happen in November.

NOVEMBER 2 THURSDAY (Ask thy purse what tho shouldst buy)

Snow?

NOVEMBER 3 FRIDAY (Life is not measured by the time we live — Crabbe)

No snow.

NOVEMBER 4 SATURDAY (Do the headwork before the handwork)

When will it snow?

NOVEMBER 5 SUNDAY (He is a good orator who convinces himself)

We want snow!

We want snow?

Shoveling ?

NOVEMBER 6 MONDAY (A miserly father makes a prodigal son)

My father isn’t miserly; therefore, I will not be a prodigal son.

NOVEMBER 7 TUESDAY (All authority belongs to the people — Jefferson)

Yes, yes, my little chickadee.

NOVEMBER 8 WEDNESDAY (Trust not him who has broken faith — Shakespeare)

I see, said the blind carpenter, as he picked up his hammer and saw.

Daddy’s favorite phrase.

NOVEMBER 9 THURSDAY (A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner)

I bought a new diary for use next year. Hopefully, my literary talents will improve.

I planned to write about nothing but art, but that is a bit much, so instead I will write about (heh, heh!) me. Surprised?

Then November 1967 continues:

NOVEMBER 10 FRIDAY (The sting of reproach is the proof of it)

What would we do without Christmas vacations?

I, for one, would crack up, shiver, shiver, drool!

NOVEMBER 11 SATURDAY (Protection and patriotism are reciprocol — Calhoun)

My artistic ability has improved greatly since the summer.

NOVEMBER 12 SUNDAY (Nobody calls himself a rogue)

Trust in God, because He trusts you.

I am just bursting with my literary creativity! My sayings are ever so original; straight my idiotic skull, which by the way is as hard as a rock. Few hats will fit it. Still, I mean what I wrote above seriously, and as far as I know, it is original.

NOVEMBER 13 MONDAY (Borrowed garments never fit well)

I long for a long Christmas vacation, longingly.

NOVEMBER 14 TUESDAY (Prudent pauses forward business)

You know what? I’m fairly happy! No complaints.

NOVEMBER 15 WEDNESDAY (A noble mind disdains not to repent — Homer)

It seems a month since each time I go to Communion, although actually it’s usually only a week.

NOVEMBER 16 THURSDAY (Every man judges of others by himself — Latin)

You know it is really worth being good on the earth, because next time, it’s all infinity. That’s too long to spend in hell.

This thought has impressed me considerably: That it’s worth a little suffering on earth to spend all eternity with God.

If people thought over that for awhile it might help some. But people sometimes ...

I can’t remember what people sometimes do. But infinity is so long. On and on and on. Forever. One day for every blade of grass that ever was or is and then more. Why won’t people listen to reason? I’ve seen that happen to myself at times. It must be a sort of fatalism.

NOVEMBER 17 FRIDAY (Modesty is the only sure bait when you angle for praise — Chesterfield)

Looking back at what I have written I see that I don’t talk like a saint, which is what I want to become.

I guess I talk (write) like me. Which, I hope, for the present, is perfectly acceptable.

I see something else.

I have grown up some more and I am getting better. It is a change which at first was hard for me to see, but when I read over what I have written, I saw it definitely. And I am getting closer to God.

It is good that I finally got away from that school; that may be part of it. I was much too nervous there. Praise God that I got out of there the way I did. I am much happier now.

Note: KC wrote no entries for the following seven days, but I've included them for continunity:

NOVEMBER 18 SATURDAY (A good servant makes a good master — Italian)

NOVEMBER 20 MONDAY (All are not princes who ride with the emperor — Dutch)

NOVEMBER 21 TUESDAY (Good will should be taken in part payment)

NOVEMBER 22 WEDNESDAY (’I would rather make my name than inherit it — Thackeray)

NOVEMBER 23 THURSDAY (Stop eating when you are enjoying it most — German)

NOVEMBER 24 FRIDAY (Impossibilities recede as experience advances)

NOVEMBER 25 SATURDAY (As charms are nonsense, nonsense is a charm — Franklin)

I am beginning to grow up and that is hard, but really it’s not so bad as people make it out to be.

God holds you in His hand by His love. It is such a hard thing to explain; God’s love.

When I was little I used to demand (of God) why I couldn’t be a saint and what was the matter with me; why couldn’t I be one of His chosen ones. I’m afraid I was quite rude. I never understood why I didn’t feel His love. And yet I wonder now how I even knew about these things I so greedily asked for.

It was my own fault. My prayers were no good. I was trying to make everything one-sided with little or no effort on my part.

Strangely enough, as is with my art, I can remember being interested in God and praying to Him at times, although I was quite bad at others, back to times when I was quite small, 3 or 4 yrs. old.

From KC's last sentence in her Nov. 25, 1967 entry, her insight that "... I can remember being interested in God and praying to Him at times ... back to times when I was quite small, 3 or 4 yrs. old." simply astonished me because she was reminded of it by Jesus in a conversation with Him (and the first of many more conversations, as it turned out) early on the morning of July 22nd, 1975!

You can view that conversation here on the art-oriented website I first created for her a couple of years ago

And then November 1967 concludes:

NOVEMBER 26 SUNDAY (The wise distrust the unknown — La Fontaine)

A self-portrait, annotated with:

Actually my hair goes  the other way (at the part).

I have been so fortunate as to have acquired a square nose.

NOVEMBER 27 MONDAY (Unkindness has no remedy at law)

Quick sketch of an angel and a house, smoke coming out of its chimney.

NOVEMBER 28 TUESDAY (The object of oratory is not truth, but persuasion— Macaulay)

I wish I could write something with fire, something with God that would make men fight to the finish for him but I am still so lukewarm.

There is no greater courage to be found than that of the weak man who loves God. Never mind, I can’t write anymore.

NOVEMBER 29 WEDNESDAY (What reason weaves, by passion is undone — Pope)

So many days hath November, like waves of the grey, mist-ridden sea.

NOVEMBER 30 THURSDAY (Wishes won’t wash dishes)

I have seen the sea, and seen infinity, I have held sand in my hand, and watched time slip through my fingers, and I [have] seen the stars of a cold night’s sky, beyond the claim of man, and I have wondered at the ageless beauty and wisdom of God.

KC's entries for December 1967 begin ...

DECEMBER 1 FRIDAY (A light heart lives long — Shakespeare)

The beginning of December; cold in weather, but warm in men’s hearts.

The beginning of the end.

DECEMBER 2 SATURDAY (His worth is warrant for his welcome — Shakespeare)

Our Lord’s birthday comes closer.

For Christmas from Daddy I am getting an oil paint set.

DECEMBER 3 SUNDAY (Time and opportunity are no man’s slave — German)

I realized how important it is not to set a bad example for others to follow, but I only recently saw that a good example will do just as much work in the right direction.

It takes a lot of guts to be good when everyone else is doing something not right and pleasing to God.

Then December 1967 continues:

DECEMBER 4 MONDAY (Be sure you’re right, then go ahead — Crockett)

Every once in a while I get this urge to do something creative, which can be very aggravating if I can’t think of anything. I get restless and my mind starts spinning in dizzy circles and I pace up and down looking for inspiration. Sometimes the problem is easily solved with pencil and paper, but not always.

No, not always, sometimes I decide to do something crazy like trying to make maple sugar or papier-maché disasters. When that happens everyone is wary of me and they think to themselves, “Kathy is at it again!”

But finally I get over it and all is well once more.

DECEMBER 5 TUESDAY (Change of weather is the discourse of fools)

Prayer to a religious life* is what drawing is to a realistic artist. It is of the essence.

* Religious Life. Here is a phrase used for want of a better. R. L. sounds  so nunnish but I am about as nunnish as a short dress.

I think the trouble here is the word life. It suggests nothing but religion in one’s daily existence but that in my case is not so. Religion is not my only interest although . . . Well, wait a minute, it’s not religion, it’s God.

God is what I’m interested in. If a person is interested in God and applies the way of that interest to his life what kind of life is it? I don’t like “religious”, it sounds odd.

I am sorry I am so obscure but . . . I think very quickly and my hand is not so fast. The words written are those that I snatch from the flow of my mind.

DECEMBER 6 WEDNESDAY (Strike while the iron is hot — Webster)

I am very tired. I don’t get enough sleep. Yawn.

DECEMBER 7 THURSDAY (What a man desires he easily believes)

How’d you like that?

Guess who? and other revelant phrases.

DECEMBER 8 FRIDAY (Perhaps hinders folk from lying — French)

My sense of humor is developing. That’s nice.

Feast of the Immaculate Conception, a special day, a Holyday of Obligation. Everyone say one

Can’t possibly hope to remember what everyone was to say.

I’m looking through now about 9 months after this entry was written. This diary business isn’t a bad idea. It lets me see how much I’ve grown up, and I think that’s been quite a bit.

DECEMBER 9 SATURDAY (Whatever advice you give, be short — Horace)

Some of my favorite phrases:

Golly Bill !

My goodness !

Rather (Said Vehy English)

How da ya like that?!

Isn’t that sumpin’

Hey! Pretty good!

Gee

Heavens to Betsy ! (Used rarely)

Wow !

Wham ! Wham !

Bruther !

For goodness sakes !

Guess who? and other relevant phrases.

DECEMBER 10 SUNDAY (Virtue remains when all else has passed away — German)

Note: KC's entry for this day was titled "Sort of an Epilogue of Sorts" and was continued in her following day's entry. But she added a note in the margins that specified "This should be read after Dec. 31 entry" and indeed these were a true summary of her thoughts about her life in 1967, and so I've moved these combined entries — her "Epilogue of Sorts" — to the very end for convenience and per her request.

DECEMBER 11 MONDAY (Nae man can tether time or tide — Burns)

DECEMBER 12 TUESDAY (Wisdom goes not always by years)

If you’re of good heart and a charitable nature, you’ll understand this. And if you’re not you had better become so.

Don’t think me to have but one interest in life. I have many. They are facets to my diamond and make it shine all the more; that is my other interests and activities but add to the splendor and joy of my love for Him. (Sounds awful, doesn’t it? Maybe if one thinks on it for awhile, however, there will be a bit more understanding.) The thing I do have to be careful of is that my many interests don’t distract me from the true course.

Here:

Art

Reading

Writing …

DECEMBER 13 WEDNESDAY (Make not your sauce until you have caught your fish)

… Poetry

Archaeology

Anthropology

Theology

History

Languages. And Music vaguely.

Some things more than others.

In each of these things I seek the Truth and in each I find It. But it is in my Church and in my prayers and, most particularly, in the sacraments of my Church that I find the Truth; God.

Which is all true, though flighty sounding, but that is because of my inept way of expressing myself.

Reading all this I admit to a touch of what, I suppose, must be described as pride: I like myself. However, if a man cannot get …

DECEMBER 14 THURSDAY (Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing — Shakespeare)

… along with himself, who else is he going to get along with?

Of course, often enough, I think myself the most lowly, despicable, wretched, ugly, repulsive, revolting cur that ever crawled the face of the earth. Which is pretty low.

I have confidence in myself, but I should have none. Someday I hope to have completely removed my confidence in myself and replaced it with confidence in God. I love sincerity, and I , yet, am insincere at times. I love truth, and I tell a lie. I realize the great dignity of man and I laugh at another. Each sin is a blow to the Body of Christ, Whom I love and yet I sin.

DECEMBER 15 FRIDAY (Envy shoots at others and wounds herself)

All this is hypocrisy, which I detest, and yet I am a hypocrite. By these things I prove to myself that I can have no confidence in myself. But I have confidence in God. And he has enough confidence in me to trust me with His help and grace, so that someday, after the long, hard battle, I shall no longer be a hypocrite.

But wait a minute. No confidence at all in myself and I would be saying that I was beyond anybody’s, including God’s help, which would be despair.

All right, cut it! I didn’t want to get into one of my debates, in which I will eventually get the right answer, but really doesn’t bear being written down. It takes too long. What I’m …

DECEMBER 16 SATURDAY (That war is only just which is necessary)

… simply trying to say is that I want to keep a happy medium presumption and despair. And I don’t think a certain amount of confidence in one’s abilities and good points does any harm. In fact, it might do some good.

Anyway… I’m a pretty happy kid. Wednesday’s child is full of woe. Well, I have had some tough times in my life, but I managed to survive, and benefit by them, too.

I’ve got a lot to be happy about. I know I’m nearsighted as a mole, and my left foot’s bigger than my right foot, and I’ve got a sinus condition, and my teeth are crooked. But, so what? I get along …

DECEMBER 17 SUNDAY (Honest error is to be pitied, not ridiculed — Chesterfield)

… with most people pretty well and I got a million things more than I deserve to keep me happy. A million things, a million reasons.

“The world is so full of a number

of things,

I’m sure we should all be

as happy as kings.”

R.L.S. [Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem “Happy Thought”, early 1880’s]

So much to be happy about, have I. The yellow grass of the fields, combed by the wind’s tooth, the great, mysterious sea, stretching on and on, the sky, of every color known to man, from red of sunset, to blue of sun’s greatest height, to black of night’s lowest depth. Aye, tell me, does any man have more than I? Does any man have less?

Someday, will the style …

DECEMBER 18 MONDAY (Who don’t keep faith with God, won’t keep it with man— Dutch)

… of my words be old-fashioned? Shall my words have no meaning to those of future generations, or will men’s problems be the same, but written in a different style?

When I was little I wanted to know everything. My folly, I still do.

Fancy words, but true. My mind can soar at times, but always manages to fall flat on its face.

I know too much, I know too little. I know too much of my own good qualities and too little of the bad, and too much of the bad in others, and too little of the good.

And then December 1967 concludes:

DECEMBER 19 TUESDAY (Everybody’s business is nobody’s business)

Where does my road lead me? Through big cities, or jungles, through the minds of men, or mountains, through small towns, or forests, to human souls, or a quiet cell? Where will I go, wither do I travel? Oh, Future, you give me no answer, but you stand and smile. I do not fear you.

The Present I know well. She is fearsome because she is before my very eyes. The Future well notes her actions.

And the Past? She thrills me. What was in this man’s mind when he said what did, why did they do what they did?

Time, time unlock your secret.

DECEMBER 20 WEDNESDAY (The fashion wears out more apparel than the man   — Shakespeare)

But I will not worry, I will not fear. My road may be long or short, but I don’t care. But I am dragging on now, and boring you; I won’t have that.

You know, I had to write something to fill up my epilogue, and what I wrote was true, but I’m afraid I tended to be draggy. I was writing as my mind wandered, drifting, like wood on the sea. (My, I am so poetical.)

One of the things I admire most in a person is sincerity. And then I admire a readiness to poke fun at oneself, as well as at …

DECEMBER 21 THURSDAY (Flatterers are cats that lick before and scratch behind   — German)

… another. You know, that’s a grand virtue, humorous humility. (Not that the humility is supposed to be a sham; its that much better, though, when one hides one’s nobility behind humour.)

Could anyone ever understand me, I am as vague as the mist over the Canton marches, er, sorry, marshes.

Apologies

Apologies to Curran, (who, even after not having seen him for more than a year, I still like him) because if he ever read this he’d die.

Apologies to Cleary and Heffernan for the same reason and …

DECEMBER 22 FRIDAY (Bad men excuse their faults; good men leave them — Jonson)

… apologies to the nuns of Kennedy and anyone who may have been offended here in any way, shape, or form.

DECEMBER 23 SATURDAY (At a great bargain make a pause)

Today I woke up and looked out the window – Snow !

Shoveling . . .

I pick up the papers. They had a big “Ha, ha we’re not going to have snow” edition.

We shall go down Helena’s and get our presents from her there. Tomorrow we get our presents from Mom and Dad.

DECEMBER 24 SUNDAY (Influence is not government — Washington)

Christmas Eve is when we get our presents. It’s always a special night.

DECEMBER 25 MONDAY (May Christmas joy linger through the year!)

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will !

DECEMBER 26 TUESDAY (Time is the soul of the world— Pythagoras)

Time... Another year of life so soon to come. God grant I act well in it.

DECEMBER 27 WEDNESDAY (The noblest motive is the public good — Virgil)

Slowly, stealthily, creep the days, smiling slyly, to greet that coming of the new year, holding behind their backs heaven only knows what terrors, and some joys, too.

DECEMBER 28 THURSDAY (Time is an herb that cures all diseases— Franklin) Well, ➚ I suppose that’s so.

DECEMBER 29 FRIDAY (Whoever overcomes by force overcomes but half his foe — Milton)

Harrumph!

May this be a good year.

DECEMBER 30 SATURDAY (A friend is to be taken with his faults — Portuguese)

No one would ever believe this book.

DECEMBER 31 SUNDAY (Best wishes for 366 happy days in 1968)

A new year and a new diary. Who knows what will become of this one?

Resolutions are everywhere but I have made only one:

To get closer and to love God more and to try bringing some of His children to Him.

I suppose that sounds more like three, but they all depend on each other to be successful. With God’s help I shall do it and He is always willing to help.

I am a year older and a year wiser and let’s hope a year’s closer to Him.

Finis

And so ends the final 3 months (4th Quarter) of KC's 1967 Dailyaide Diary!

KC's entries from Dec. 10th & 11th: This should be read after Dec. 31 entry

Sort of an Epilogue of Sorts

This is quite a book. Reading it now, I see all sorts of things that escaped me then. I had a lot of problems that had to be figured out. This book presents the background and some of the characters that made up that act of my life.

Some of what I wrote was immature. Some of it was the opposite. Some of it sounds foolish, but all written here was written with sincerity and that, in my mind, is what counts. Some of it seems beautiful, but, perhaps, that is only to me, because I have fine memories connected with what I wrote.

This book was written at an interesting time of my life; when I was struggling, climbing from one mountain to another. I was growing in body and soul and in wisdom and in grace. I still am growing, but this is in a different scene.

The trouble with this book is that a lot can be read into it that isn’t there.

The reader could, according to his disposition, make me out to be a bumbling romantic adolescent girl, or a saint. I am neither. I am somewhere in between.

I shall probably always be bumbling and romantic. I, God willing, shall be a saint. This is my goal in life. I have every intention of attaining it, and I’m sure that I shall; I would stake my life on it. (I am being humorous there, but I also mean it.)