A friend of mine gave me a short story written by Laura Ingalls Wilder, titled The Sunflower published August 1, 1923. Below I’ve typed a few of the paragraphs. I think I remember my friend telling me that she would read this story when she needed some encouragement. While cleaning out my files today, I came across the copy, and I needed the encouragement too.
Because of their importance, we must not neglect our homes in the rapid changes of the present day. For when tests of character come in later years, strength to the good will not come from the modern improvements or amusements few may have enjoyed, but from the quiet moments and the ‘still small voices’ of the old home.
Nothing can take the place of this early home influence and, as it does not depend on externals, it may be the possession of the poor as well as the rich, a heritage from all fathers and mothers to their children.
The real things of life that are common possessions of us all are of the greatest value; worth far more than motor cars or radio outfits; more than lands or money; and our whole store of those wonderful riches may be revealed to us by such a common, beautiful thing as a wild sunflower.
