Sometimes the hymn-singing and praying, and "Sistering" and
"Brothering" get on my nerves, until I almost scream, but when I
remember how heavenly good to me they are I'm all contrition. I have
even been invited to write for the Mission papers, now isn't that
sufficient glory for any sinner?

Your letters are such comforts to me! I read them over and over and
actually know parts of them by heart! Since I was a little girl I
have had a burning desire to win your approval. I remember once when
you said I was stronger than the little boy next door I sprained my
back trying to prove, it. And now when you write those lovely things
about me and tell me how good and brave I am, why I'd sprain something
worse than my back to be worthy of your approval!

But my courage doesn't always ring true, Mate, sometimes it's a brass
ring. If you want to hear of true heroism, just listen to this
story. There was a little American Missionary, who was going home to
stay after twenty years of hard service. At the request of the board
she stopped off at the Leper Colony in order to make a report. Soon
after she reached home, she discovered a small white spot on her hand,
and on consulting a physician, found it was leprosy. Without breathing
a word of it to anyone, she bade her family and friends a cheerful
good-bye, and came straight back to that Leper Colony, where she took
up her work among the outcasts. Never an outcry, never a groan, not
even a plea for sympathy! Now how is that for a soldier lady?

It is quite cold to-day and I am indulging in the luxury of a roaring
fire. You know the natives use little stoves that they carry around
with them, and call "hibachi." But cold as it is, the yard is full of