He thought about a schoolteacher very dear to him, who had gone out of her way to put a great love of literature and verse in him. It affected all his writings and his preaching. So he sat down and wrote to her. It was only days until he got a reply in a feeble scrawl. "My Dear Willy" - Stidger says at that time he was 50, and no one had called him Willy for a long time, so just the opening sentence warmed his heart. Here's the letter:
"My Dear Willy: I can't tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely, and like the last leaf of autumn lingering behind." Listen to this sentence, will you? "You'll be interested to know that I taught in school for more than fifty years, and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue, cold morning, and it cheered me as nothing has done in many years."
Stidger says, "I'm not sentimental, but I found myself weeping over that note." Then he thought of a kindly bishop, now retired, who had recently faced the death of his wife and was all alone. This bishop had given him advice and counsel and love when he first began his ministry. So he sat down and wrote the old bishop. In two days a reply came back.
"My Dear Will: Your letter was so beautiful, so real, that as I sat reading it in my study, tears fell from my eyes, tears of gratitude. Before I realized what I was doing, I rose from my chair and I called her name to share it with her, forgetting she was gone. You'll never know how much your letter has warmed my spirit. I have been walking around in the glow of your letter all day long."
by David A. Seamands, "Instruction for Thanksgiving"
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