I have not cared that the grandchildren liked to dump it out and play with the paper or toss them all around like confetti, as little babes will. Although I decided to put it out of reach after finding tiny granddaughter, whose parent had decided to potty train, sitting smack in a puddle of her own making, with the box and papers scattered around her. Thankfully none of the dearest scraps of wisdom were soaked, although, yes, I did keep a few and let them dry out. I figure in years to come I can look at the stained paper and remember: “Oh, yes, that’s where dear Precious Grace peed on them. Isn’t that sweet?”
Among my scraps of wisdom is this poem that I copied many years ago from Our Kate, a memoir by novelist Catherine Cookson. I have noted that she credited the source as The Happy Mag, 1929–I will succeed, I simply cannot fail The only obstacle is doubt. There’s not a hill I cannot scale Once fear is put to rout. Don’t think defeat, Don’t talk defeat. The word will rob you of your strength. I will succeed, this phrase repeat Throughout the journey’s length. The moment that I can’t is said, You slam a door right in your face. Why not exclaim I will instead, Half won is then the race. You close the door to your success By entertaining one small fear. Think happiness, talk happiness, Watch joy then coming near.