Read Online What Is Visible: A Novel by Kimberly Elkins - Free Book Online
Authors: Kimberly Elkins
Ads: Link
know that you and I are not far apart in our hearts and minds on this subject, unlike the radical Unitarians, so I tell you that I do my best to preserve Laura from harm. Give my kind regards to the rest of your family. God bless you and keep you.
December 1844, Charles Sumner to Dr. Howe
I am hurt to hear that all the Continent’s bigwigs desire from you is the dreary decanting of Laura. Don’t they know she is but the tip of your little finger? Pope Gregory XVI in Rome, the biggest wig of all, and he asks you only what Laura knows of God—how inhuman! What if you told them that your poor lawyer friend stopped by to check on the little package last week and that she bit him on the forearm? “You touched me too hard,” she said. This is what they revere and write about in Europe these days, a rabid child?
I have been vigilant in keeping my eyes and ears in at the Institution as you have sworn me to, but the girl’s behavior at this point is beyond the pale. And it so hard to tell the foxes from the chickens there at the moment, not to mention the snakes.
Good luck slipping off that mantle of fame you have laid across your too-broad shoulders, my Chevie.
December 1844, Dr. Howe to Laura
My girl, you have asked me so many questions in so many letters that I am dizzy keeping track. You are a threat to your Doctor’s sanity. It would take very much time and reams of good paper to tell you all I know and think about the subject of religion, and you should be clear that I am very busy at the moment taking care of my wife. I shall try to tell you a little, because I fear that you might be receiving information from the wrong sources, which would be disastrous for us all.
First, it is the Christmas season, and you will no doubt be hearing much about the birth of Jesus, etc., but you are simply to enjoy the day and the festivities. God is a loving father, the most loving father, who has made the world and everything in it beautiful for us. You don’t need to be told about it or read books about it to understand. Just take it in and be happy. That is as much as I can tell you for now, but that should be more than enough to hold you until my return. Your mind is tender, and the harder things I will explain when you are ready. All that heaven allows you shall have, my dear. Nothing more can be promised.
You have heard the joyous news that Mrs. Howe and I are having a baby. Not the Christ child, but a real live baby I will bring home for you from across the sea!
December 1844, Laura to Dr. Howe
Just one thing: Why didn’t God let me die when I was sick?
Chapter 6
Laura, 1845
I ’m glad Mama said it would be too busy with me home at Christmas. I don’t like New Hampshire in the snow. Everyone says it’s so beautiful and that each snowflake is different, but they certainly feel the same, though I do like to melt them on my tongue. The only good thing about winter is wearing my fur muff. And at home I probably wouldn’t have gotten presents as nice; Mama doesn’t even give us real stockings. Of course Doctor wasn’t here to be my Saint Nicholas this year, but I did get an orange (I hate its seeds), a ball of yarn, and new crochet hooks. Some of the younger girls still believe there’s a jolly old elf, but I never really believed that. Jeannette read Mr. Dickens’s Christmas Carol to the six of us who stayed here for the holidays, but there was no one to translate for me. Thank goodness I am already familiar with the story. I feel an allegiance with sweet Tiny Tim, but at the same time, I’m not sure I want him to get all better and strong. Of course, I don’t want him to die, but must every single thing turn out so well for him? What if Julia’s baby is very frail, like Tiny Tim, and maybe lame? That would be very sad.
Now that it’s April, Mama says I can come home for a month. The only terrible thing is that I won’t be able to get Doctor’s letters. I hope that I will have a pile waiting for me on
December 1844, Charles Sumner to Dr. Howe
I am hurt to hear that all the Continent’s bigwigs desire from you is the dreary decanting of Laura. Don’t they know she is but the tip of your little finger? Pope Gregory XVI in Rome, the biggest wig of all, and he asks you only what Laura knows of God—how inhuman! What if you told them that your poor lawyer friend stopped by to check on the little package last week and that she bit him on the forearm? “You touched me too hard,” she said. This is what they revere and write about in Europe these days, a rabid child?
I have been vigilant in keeping my eyes and ears in at the Institution as you have sworn me to, but the girl’s behavior at this point is beyond the pale. And it so hard to tell the foxes from the chickens there at the moment, not to mention the snakes.
Good luck slipping off that mantle of fame you have laid across your too-broad shoulders, my Chevie.
December 1844, Dr. Howe to Laura
My girl, you have asked me so many questions in so many letters that I am dizzy keeping track. You are a threat to your Doctor’s sanity. It would take very much time and reams of good paper to tell you all I know and think about the subject of religion, and you should be clear that I am very busy at the moment taking care of my wife. I shall try to tell you a little, because I fear that you might be receiving information from the wrong sources, which would be disastrous for us all.
First, it is the Christmas season, and you will no doubt be hearing much about the birth of Jesus, etc., but you are simply to enjoy the day and the festivities. God is a loving father, the most loving father, who has made the world and everything in it beautiful for us. You don’t need to be told about it or read books about it to understand. Just take it in and be happy. That is as much as I can tell you for now, but that should be more than enough to hold you until my return. Your mind is tender, and the harder things I will explain when you are ready. All that heaven allows you shall have, my dear. Nothing more can be promised.
You have heard the joyous news that Mrs. Howe and I are having a baby. Not the Christ child, but a real live baby I will bring home for you from across the sea!
December 1844, Laura to Dr. Howe
Just one thing: Why didn’t God let me die when I was sick?
Chapter 6
Laura, 1845
I ’m glad Mama said it would be too busy with me home at Christmas. I don’t like New Hampshire in the snow. Everyone says it’s so beautiful and that each snowflake is different, but they certainly feel the same, though I do like to melt them on my tongue. The only good thing about winter is wearing my fur muff. And at home I probably wouldn’t have gotten presents as nice; Mama doesn’t even give us real stockings. Of course Doctor wasn’t here to be my Saint Nicholas this year, but I did get an orange (I hate its seeds), a ball of yarn, and new crochet hooks. Some of the younger girls still believe there’s a jolly old elf, but I never really believed that. Jeannette read Mr. Dickens’s Christmas Carol to the six of us who stayed here for the holidays, but there was no one to translate for me. Thank goodness I am already familiar with the story. I feel an allegiance with sweet Tiny Tim, but at the same time, I’m not sure I want him to get all better and strong. Of course, I don’t want him to die, but must every single thing turn out so well for him? What if Julia’s baby is very frail, like Tiny Tim, and maybe lame? That would be very sad.
Now that it’s April, Mama says I can come home for a month. The only terrible thing is that I won’t be able to get Doctor’s letters. I hope that I will have a pile waiting for me on
Similar Books
