“TAKING IT FOR GRANTED”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 75, Issue 178, 30 July 1932, Page 19 (Supplement)

“TAKING IT FOR GRANTED”

beautiful thoughts and wise COUNSEL FKOM “THE MYSTEEI OUS LOVEB‘B’’ FEN Dear Wendy,—The time does fly, it seem* only the other day since I wrote to you, and here it ie Letterland Day again. Fancy, and still thene are new ’ltes joining the Wendy Hut. I fear you will have to call our "Hut a •‘mansion” ere long, for surely no Hut ever held over 3000, but then I forgot, our Hut is elastic, it must be to hold so many, and elastic, too, must our Wendy's heart be, for all are welcomed. Last week, I was at a friend's place, who has a house, a perfect bungalow, with a verandah that has rambler roses and autumn leaves creeping all over it, and it situated on the crest of a hill; there •s a sharp drop to a sheet of water fringed with green trees, and beyond the water, the horizon was flushing pink, while the stars overhead were twinkling brightly. ‘‘Think.’ said I, “of actually living there with all that beauty yours all the time.” "But,” replied my friend, "If you did you would probably never see it he you see it this minute. You would 'take tk for granted.’ ” Oh the folly of taking things for granted! How much joy “taking it for granted,” is always killing I We go for a walk in the field, and see daisies and buttercups, and think “How pretty. I must pick some.” And more probably than not, forget alt about our intentions. Yet if those Beif tame dailies and buttercups were grown, and cultivated by a florist, and cost half-a-crown a bunch, how we should prize them. 'Tis the same with people's good qualities, we expect the good-natured person to always be good-natured, and the patient person always patient. That Mrs. Jones will always make a perfectly wonderful selection of cakes for the bazaar, and Mrs. Brown can always be depended upon to see that the entertainment goes off all right, and that Mr. Black will always turn up end “rig” the stage, and see to the hundred and one things that occur on concert night, and that Mr. Smith will play the accompaniments is an assured thing; and bo we withhold the word of acknowledgment and praise, that adds so infinitely to the joy of life. Taking love for granted is the eause of much unhappiness. Making no effort to hold love, or to live up to it, or to requite it, just "taking it for granted, thinking that you can tuck the fact of love in some corner, and go there and .find it intact whenever you happen to want to. But we have not yet reached that land where "neither moth nor rust doeth corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal.” Lwe often starves on the “take-it- for-granted” diet. Of course, them must be some "taking it for granted” in life. We should be too sensitive to get along, if habit did not dull the sharpness of new impressions, but one can and should, fight against too much of the "take it for granted” mood. One can now and again make a deliberate effort to tear the scales of habit off one’s eyes, and see love and beauty and all the good qualities of those about us, in their more vivid aspect. And perhaps tell someone about it. Here is a recipe for Kindness Cake:— “Take equal parts of kindness. Unselfishness and thoughtfulness, Mix in an atmosphere of love. Add a sp[ee of usefulness. Scatter a few grains of cheerfulness. Season with smiles, Stir with a hearty laugh, and dispense to everybody.” Now is not that nice, Wendy? I think so, and we could all do well to remember this "recipe.” Oceans of love to all.—From "THE MYSTERIOUS LOVER,” Letterland. Many, many thanks, dear, for your wonderful letter this week. I shall not attempt an answer, but commend its contents, without reservation, to our entire clan. Regards.— Wendy. “LITTLE RICHARD” SELECTS AND ADOPTS POEM rOB HUT’S PAGE. Dear Wendy,—How are you getting on! We are having more cold weather now and frosts galore. As there is not much to write about I thought I would send along a poem named “The Tinka,” which I have adapted for our *■ sage:— A merry band of Tinks are we, By Wendy held together; The children of the countryside All tanned by wind and weather. Our homes are lone and far away, But little 'tie we’re caring, For out upon the farm lands we, Most happily are faring. Our playground is the forest cool, And many a winding liver, The grey-green hills and pastures broad With sunlight all a-quiver. And tho’ we have not many mates, To play with, we’re for cronies, The patient beasts, the faithful dogs, And sturdy little ponies. So can you wonder that we are, Of tinkers just the brightest, With cheeks aglow and eyes that shine, And hearts the very lightest. —From “LITTLE RICHARD,” Papaiti. I am keeping quite well, thank you, dear. We have had some heavy frosts, too. Oh many thanks for the poem, it is lovely.—Wendy. JACK FROST PAYS “FAIRY OF ’ THE RAINBOW” MANY VISITS. Dear Wendy,—Once more I have taken up my pen to write a few lines just to see how you are all getting on this awful weather. Jack Frost, has been visiting us and biting off our fingers and toes. I am sitting by a blazing fire which is beginning to send me off to sleep. I think I know who “Utiku’s Chief Detective” is, and 1 know quite a lot of other Ites, too. They are “Green Goblin,” “Scribbling Sue,” “Little Miss Powder Puff,” and “Fire Fairy.” I have been knitting for two or three years now, and have made myself and my nieces quite a lot of things. I hope you will excuse my scribble. Well, Wendy, I don’t think there is much more news to tell you, so I will close. Cheerio. Love to you and all the Ites. — ‘FAIRY OF THE RAINBOW,” Winiita. So pleased to have your jolly letter, dear. Oh, dear, but hasn’t the weather been wintry? Jack Frost is a rascal, indeed. I see you have discovered quite a few of your co-Ites. Knitting if a lovely pastime, isn’t it? —Wendy. “WE MAKE BIG LOG FIRES AND SIT ROUND THEM.’’ SAYS “CHEERIO MABIE.” Dear Wendy.— l thought that I must lot forget to thank you very much for string me join your happy band of Ites. I am more than pleased with the fen-name you gave me. It is terribly •old up here, and the weather has been most disappointing. On nice warm, tunny days I potter around my own wee garden. Wendy, you should see it; it is one mass of lovely yellow jonquils, •nd I also have a lot of sweet peas which are growing very high up a wire netting fence. During the wet nights we make big log fires and sit round them, and knit or read. My latent craze is knitting. I am knitting a light green and dark green woollen jumper for myself. After I finish this I hope to make a nice blue outfit for my nephew. I really do like knitting. Well, I must close now, Wendy, sending ®y love and best of luck to all my eo-Ite«. I remain your sincere Ite, “CHEERIO MARIE,” Parnell, Auckland. The weather here is very cold, too. dear. However, we shall soon have the lovely sunny days with us. won’t we? Yes, I should love to see your garden. 1 think gardening a wonderful hobby. Knitting is a lovely pastime and a pro’fitable one. too. Write Again. soon, dear.—W endv.