To Sisters

I have all of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's journals--I must have read each one at least a dozen times over the years--and every book written about her that I could find, especially those written by her daughter Reeve. I think she was the most extraordinary woman of my lifetime, and my admiration for her knows no end. This paragraph is from her Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead and is from a letter to her younger sister Constance written in January of 1930.

"I want an open fire and a room full of flowers--spring flowers--against the gray windows

long window boxes of narcissus and daffodils 

and a big flip jar of fresh white freesias on the table in the middle of the room.

And red tulips where the firelight will reflect in them.

And bookcases up to the ceiling and two large roomy desks and you at one of them,

and Daffin in front of the fire.

And for lunch (on a yellow tablecloth with mimosa in the center)--

and we would make it ourselves--

clear (canned) soup and a poached egg apiece,

and FRESH asparagus on toast,

and you would read me your latest story."

Lindbergh ends with this last sentence. May I claim it for my own to my three younger sisters, Deb, Teresa, and Jenn? We have poured out our hearts to each other this past week in emails, and I understand how Anne Morrow Lindbergh yearns for her sister and writes this:

"I love you and I miss you..."