Edith Bolling Wilson to Woodrow Wilson
Title
Edith Bolling Wilson to Woodrow Wilson
Creator
Wilson, Edith Bolling Galt, 1872-1961
Identifier
WWP14880
Date
1915 August 15
Source
Edith Bolling Wilson Collection, Library of Congress, Washington, District of Columbia
Language
English
Text
Friday night-8 - 15.
I did not mean to write to you tonight, but something whispers you will understand, and know that it is because of — many things. First that you will me to do it - I feel it - and love to obey.Second that, in the awful possibilities the Extra papers hint at- I know you need all the help and tender comprehension I can give— And Oh! do you know what a flood of happiness sweeps over me when you say I am really a help, a haven to you and sanctuary for your tired spirit?This seems so marvelous a thing to me you will not think me blasphemous when I say the wonder of it is as gracious as the shining presence of the Angel when he came in gleaming Whiteness to the Virgin.Why should I be chosen among all women to help you in your masterful strength to serve–and serve so worthly - so unselfishly a great nation – The thought makes me tremble and grow afraid, and I long to come and have you answer my question –What Worlds are crowded into one little week of time - Last Friday you were our host at dinner, gracious, courteously interested —You were the President, where high office set you apart - and to whom I paid my obedient homage –Tonight, you are– you and I come to you as trustingly - as restfully as the tiny child you told me of, who wanted the warm human touch of a loved hand to bring assurance of safety in a vast crowd –I trust you absolutely, and an so infinitely proud of you and the splendor of your purposeI have by me your morning messenger - Should I try to answer it my note would be too long-but I want you to know that every word of it is dear to me and brings you to me in the strangest, but happiest reality - You seem here- in this room- and I stretch out my hand to welcome you - and behold instead of your strong clasp, my fingers, close on a golden-hearted rose whose exquisite fragrance takes me, on a breath of perfume, back to our loved Southland - and I close my eyes to dream- and fear to open them lest you go away and leave me-Thank you for the dear flowers- They make an empty house vocal with their message -Goodnight- I am still thrilled by the beauty of our ride last night– and the peace of the forest and the strength of the pines beneath the stars has remained with me -I hope it brought you all this and more -
E.B.G.
I did not mean to write to you tonight, but something whispers you will understand, and know that it is because of — many things. First that you will me to do it - I feel it - and love to obey.Second that, in the awful possibilities the Extra papers hint at- I know you need all the help and tender comprehension I can give— And Oh! do you know what a flood of happiness sweeps over me when you say I am really a help, a haven to you and sanctuary for your tired spirit?This seems so marvelous a thing to me you will not think me blasphemous when I say the wonder of it is as gracious as the shining presence of the Angel when he came in gleaming Whiteness to the Virgin.Why should I be chosen among all women to help you in your masterful strength to serve–and serve so worthly - so unselfishly a great nation – The thought makes me tremble and grow afraid, and I long to come and have you answer my question –What Worlds are crowded into one little week of time - Last Friday you were our host at dinner, gracious, courteously interested —You were the President, where high office set you apart - and to whom I paid my obedient homage –Tonight, you are– you and I come to you as trustingly - as restfully as the tiny child you told me of, who wanted the warm human touch of a loved hand to bring assurance of safety in a vast crowd –I trust you absolutely, and an so infinitely proud of you and the splendor of your purposeI have by me your morning messenger - Should I try to answer it my note would be too long-but I want you to know that every word of it is dear to me and brings you to me in the strangest, but happiest reality - You seem here- in this room- and I stretch out my hand to welcome you - and behold instead of your strong clasp, my fingers, close on a golden-hearted rose whose exquisite fragrance takes me, on a breath of perfume, back to our loved Southland - and I close my eyes to dream- and fear to open them lest you go away and leave me-Thank you for the dear flowers- They make an empty house vocal with their message -Goodnight- I am still thrilled by the beauty of our ride last night– and the peace of the forest and the strength of the pines beneath the stars has remained with me -I hope it brought you all this and more -
E.B.G.
Original Format
Letter
To
Wilson, Woodrow, 1856-1924
Files
Collection
Citation
Wilson, Edith Bolling Galt, 1872-1961, “Edith Bolling Wilson to Woodrow Wilson,” 1915 August 15, WWP14880, Edith Bolling Wilson Letters, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.