BRINGING IN THE SUNSHINE.

Otago Witness, Issue 4048, 13 October 1931, Page 66

BRINGING IN THE SUNSHINE.

‘’Congratulate me, girls! I’m going to camp at Seaville for a week!” cries Daphne, coming into the office with her shining morning face aglow. Gloria gives a faint, superior smile. “Who’s going to motor you down?” she drawls. “We’re going by char-a-banc,” replies Daphne, still radiant. “ I love it, you know, and you really do see the country bettor in those high-up sort of seats.” That’s Daphne all over! You simply can’t make her discontented with things, and if you point out flaws in her arrangements, she never seems to sec them. The fairies at her cradle gave her the rare gift of changing grey to gold, and she’s been doing it ever since. It is not fatuous optimism, it is just a particularly happy outlook on things. Two men looked out through prison bars, One saw the mud, the other saw the stars. A good old couplet—and it is rather a joy, isn’t it, in these depressing days to meet the Daphnes who refuse to see the mud.

Somehow she always finds the bright side of a dull job, or the best of a tiresome situation, and sooner or later her employer will notice it, and mark her for promotion.

“ Isn’t Seaville awfully dull this time of year?” asks Gloria pityingly. “I should hate it myself.” “ Oh, it’s beautifully quiet out of season,” answers Daphne, and she goes on to describe the beauties of that commonplace little watering-place in such glowing terms that Gloria feels a'hidden pang of envy that she never managed to see it like that herself. But if this way of looking at things was a gift in her cradle, there is no reason why we shouldn't try to cultivate it. Life’s a bothersome affair to most of us, and only a few lucky ones find things just to their liking. The majority of us dislike our job. or our chief, or our landlady, or our route to the city. Most of us hate east wind, and chilblains, and rice pudding, but we have to put up with them whether we will or no, and it is then that the people like Daphne score.

“Don’t you hate having your holiday so late in the year?” asks her junior in the office. “You always have it when the best weather's over. I’d make a fuss about it if I were you.” “Oh, I don't know; I really don’t mind,” replies Daphne cheerfully. “ You get lovely mornings in late September, and it makes the winter seem ever so much shorter when you come back.” “ Well, I shouldn’t care to rough it in camp as you do.” persists Gloria. “ You know. Daphne, you’re not sensitive like I am; I sometimes think every little pin-prick of discomfort i s like a swordthrust to me.” “If you feel that little troubles are big ones, then you must feel that way about joys, too!” says Daphne comfortingly. And although they say at the office that Daphne’s not natural, and she never has any troubles, and all the rest of it, yet in their hearts they mostly hide a secret wish to be like her sometimes. Life is so much easier for other people when we see the sunshine, and the radiance, and the turn of the tide, and the golden lining to the cloud, and all the lovely little things about us! Those who bring gladness into the lives of others” never fail to keep some tor themselves, and the Daphnes of this world will find love and laughter, and hope and dreams-come-true, because of th e undaunted courage they bring with them to colour and beautify Life.— Women’s Weekly.