The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.
Maud Hart Lovelace
Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again.
reading imagination libraries world book library escape books
In silence the three of them looked at the sunset and thought about God.
faith thought sunset childhood god
She tried to act as though it were nothing to go to the library alone. But her happiness betrayed her. Her smile could not be restrained, and it spread from her tightly pressed mouth, to her round cheeks, almost to the hair ribbons tied in perky bows over her ears.
independence happiness smile excitement joy
Julia was as happy as Betsy was, almost. One nice thing about Julia was that she rejoiced in other people's luck.
happiness others joy
Betsy was so full of joy that she had to be alone. She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat down on Uncle Keith's trunk. Behind Tacy's house the sun had set. A wind had sprung up and the trees, their color dimmed, moved under a brooding sky. All the stories she had told Tacy and Tib seemed to be dancing in those trees, along with all the stories she planned to write some day and all the stories she would read at the library. Good stories. Great stories. The classics. Not Rena's novels.
future author aspirations classics writer emotion hope
Betsy liked to read her stories aloud and she read them like an actress. She made her voice low and thrillingly deep. She made it shake with emotion. She laughed mockingly and sobbed wildly when the occasion required.
reading
Betsy. The great war is on but I hope ours is over. Please come home. Joe.
war reconciliation
Isn't it mysterious to begin a new journal like this? I can run my fingers through the fresh clean pages but I cannot guess what the writing on them will be.
writing journals
They soon stopped being ten years old. But whatever age they were seemed to be exactly the right age for having fun.
growing-up childhood
Thoughts are such fleet magic things. Betsy's thoughts swept a wide arc while Uncle Keith read her poem aloud. She thought of Julia learning to sing with Mrs. Poppy. She thought of Tib learning to dance. She thought of herself and Tacy and Tib going into their 'teens. She even thought of Tom and Herbert and of how, by and by, they would be carrying her books and Tacy's and Tib's up the hill from high school.
future children growing-up friends adventures
And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. Not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. But she was through with it except in her memories.
leaving memories
nature stars winter snow moonlight
Come in early, so there'll be time to pop corn,' Mrs. Ray said. If she mentioned popping corn, they always came in early. So she usually mentioned it.
parenting
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
summer grass june roses description sunshine
Betsy liked to talk. Her father always said she got it from her mother, and her mother always said she got it from her father. But whomever she got it from she was certainly a talker.
talking conversation
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