Sept 6, 1918
My Dear Margaret:
I just had a letter from Ethel telling me of your friend's death. Is it during the past few days?
You poor girl. I know you will bear it bravely as one of thousands but the heart will ache and the tears will fall.
Some appear to pity mothers most; I don't believe the deepest love is mother and son. I do not believe a son ever gives his mother the place his sweetheart has. To lose them seems to be the crushing of all hopes; the fading of all dreams; the elimination of part of one's self.
I need not assure you of my sympathy.
Through the clouds the sun must shine again; life will by and by assume new aims and find new duties.
Ever your loving friend