The real things haven't changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong.
Laura Ingalls WilderRead
When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called out softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?" "They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now." But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods,β¦ She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the importance of cherishing the present while remembering the past.
In this quote, Laura Ingalls Wilder captures a moment of nostalgia, highlighting the significance of today's experiences and how they will remain in our memories. The conversation between Laura and her father, Pa, signals an understanding that while the past is cherished, the present moment is what truly matters and cannot be forgotten as time moves forward.
In practice
In a speech about family values, one could say, 'As Laura Ingalls Wilder beautifully stated, the present is what matters most.'
The real things haven't changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong.
It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.
Suffering passes, while love is eternal. That's a gift that you have received from God. Don't waste it.
The true way to live is to enjoy every moment as it passes, and surely it is in the everyday things around us that the beauty of life lies.
We who live in quiet places have the opportunity to become acquainted with ourselves, to think our own thoughts and live our own lives in a way that is not possible for those keeping up with the crowd.
Every job is good if you do your best and work hard. A man who works hard stinks only to the ones that have nothing to do but smell.
I feel as if I had opened a book and found roses of yesterday sweet and fragrant, between its leaves.
Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that is the land of lost content I can see it shining plain the happy highways where I went and cannot come again.
The dotted line my father's ashplant made On Sandymount Strand Is something else the tide won't wash away.
Sweet childish days, that were as long, As twenty days are now.
You can call it nostalgia, I don't mind Standing on that windswept hillside Listening to the church bells chime Listen to the church bells chime In that magic time.
I am suddenly comsumed by nostalgia for the little girl who was me, who loved the fields and believed in God, who spent winter days home sick from school reading Nancy Drew and sucking menthol cough drops, who could keep a secret.
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