Exerpt from "The Woman at the Well"

 I have just finished reading "The Woman at the Well" by Dale Evans. I read quite often and her book "Angel Unaware" was probably my favorite as it was about her daughter, Robin, who died. Most all her children were adopted yet Roy and Dale showed no difference in them. Even though they were from a famous family, they were raised in a Christian home.

The following is an excerpt from "The Woman at the Well"

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

I was at my typewriter wondering what to do next, when all of a sudden my fingers started running over the keys. Please bear with me and my mistakes, because it has been so long. I am also getting senile! My grandchildren seem to think so, though I don't believe it for an instant. Rather with the end so near, I see things in a different perspective, I still see a future, and not a materialistic one-but a future that I will not have to struggle through, as I have in the past. I am quick to point out peoples' faults, but this is only because they take life as if it were going to last forever. There are times when my memory fails me, but I can still remember so much more! My eyesight is nearly gone, but I see more things now than I've ever seen before, and though I can't hear well I have heard what I should have heard-and when I could have done something about it. My fingers are not as nimble now, and only through other hands can my thoughts be conveyed. Yes, I am what you call old and aged, but soon I will once again be romping around. I may look like a dried-up old prune, and these wrinkles may tell a story, but I am so beautiful. It is too bad you do not understand, you feel sorry for me when I hobble across the street, or when your young men bump into me and spill my packages, You have even laughed at me in my good dress with that crooked little hat, but I feel no sorrow. If only you could have what I have! This young girl beside me knows nothing of what she will be or even what she wants to be when age permits her. Oh yes, she may outrun me, but unless she awakens, as so many others ought to, she will never outlive me, nor out go me. I have more energy to see the truth and have it revealed to me forever, but my body is decaying, as it must. All I have said is nothing, and yet it is everything. Look at me. You see an old woman. Look again, you see a young heart. A young soul! I have known sorrow, but comfort has always followed. NO, I really have not much to say; how I do ramble on about nothing! I am growing weaker with each word that pours from my mouth, and soon I will be gone. But I will keep watch and know that I must not interfere. I will be rooting for the blind to see!