MY DAY by Eleanor Roosevelt, August 27, 1942:
I don't know how many of you read a magazine called "Travel," but to those who are familiar with the Hudson River Valley and like it, I think the article called "The President's Home Town," by Herbert Saltford, will be interesting. The reproductions of the murals which Olin Dows has done for the little post office in the village, are particularly nice. In ordinary times, I would say, stop as you drive through the village and see them. Now I shall say, read the article and when normal times return, I am sure you will be tempted to stop at this little post-office and see these charming murals.
I was sent a little book yesterday, which I have just read, called: "Body Servant" by Edith Tatum. This short story of the devotion of a Negro slave to his young Confederate master during the War Between the States is told with skill and senstiveness and deep appreciation of the qualities of the aristocratic young Southerner and his adoring Negro slave.
Great crises bring out great qualities and the descendants of the young plantation owner are today distinguishing themselves all over the world, in airplanes, on ships and in the Army; and a change has come over the descendants of the young slave.
No slave today needs to creep behind his master's regiment, knowing only enough to follow and steal for him, and live for him. The fine qualities in Miss Tatum's "Johnny" have been developed by education, and the Johnnys of today are giving a far greater and more intelligent service to their country as a whole, rather than to one individual.
The news of the Duke of Kent's death last night saddened us all. It is hard that the young King and Queen of England should have to bear a personal sorrow, when their minds and hearts are so torn for their people everywhere. To them, and to the young wife and children of the Duke of Kent, we would like to hold out a hand of sympathy.
War is no respecter of persons and sorrow comes to all, high and low, but the people of Great Britain seem to have learned that there is strength in the merging of sorrow. Where so many suffer, those who survive must be able to go on. Going on means following the day's routine, and submerging sorrow and anxiety in the doing of little things that are always at hand to be done.
This, the British people and their rulers are doing with magnificent courage and fortitude, as are the Russians and the Chinese and the rulers and the people of all the United Nations. We of the United States, look up to them with gratitude and admiration.
