Gladys Taber
Gladys Taber
Gladys Bagg Taber, author of 59 books, including the Stillmeadow books, and columnist for Ladies' Home Journal and Family Circle, was born in Colorado Springs on April 12, 1899, and spent most of her early years moving because of her father's work as a mining engineer. She lived in New Mexico, California, Illinois and Wisconsin, and spent time on her grandfather's farm in Massachusetts. Later, she received a bachelor's degree from Wellesley in 1920 and an M.A. from Lawrence College...
grief fishing worry
Catching something is merely a byproduct of our fishing. It is the act of fishing that wipes away all grief, lightens all worry, dissolves all fear and anxiety.
spiritual hurt sorry
Well, any love makes us vulnerable. Whatever we love will give the gift of pain somewhere along the road. But who would live sealed in spiritual cellophane just to keep from ever being hurt? There are a few people like that. I'm sorry for them. I think they are as good as dead.
jealousy fall pride
Pride may go before a fall, but jealousy goes before destruction.
christmas xmas healing
Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past.
jobs fun lying
But housekeeping is fun. It is one job where you enjoy the results right along as you work. You may work all day washing and ironing, but at night you have the delicious feeling of sunny clean sheets and airy pillows to lie on. If you clean, you sit down at nightfall with the house shining and faintly smelling of wax, all yours to enjoy right then and there. And if you cook—that creation you lift from the oven goes right to the table.
selfish destiny thinking
I resolve to be more patient, less selfish, cherish my friends, and in my small way help whoever needs help. I cannot conceivably influence the world's destiny, but I can make my own life more worthwhile. I can give some help to some people; that is not vital to all the world's problems and yet, I think if everyone did just that, we might see quite a world in our time!
christmas xmas mean
Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past. Today's Christmas should mean creating happy hours for tomorrow and reliving those of yesterday.
cat play creating
A cat is, by and large, sophisticated and complex, and capable of creating three-act plays around any single piece of action.
hate home fishing
The curious thing about fishing is you never want to go home. If you catch something, you can't stop. If you don't catch anything, you hate to leave in case something might bite.
real moving growing
the real evidence of growing older is that things level off in importance ... Days are no longer jagged peaks to climb; time is a meadow, and we move over it with level steps.
dream time being-alone
We need time to dream, time to remember, and time to reach the infinite. Time to be.
running wind-blowing voice
Perhaps, after all, our best thoughts come when we are alone. It is good to listen, not to voices but to the wind blowing, to the brook running cool over polished stones, to bees drowsy with the weight of pollen. If we attend to the music of the earth, we reach serenity. And then, in some unexplained way, we share it with others.
eye writing light
Almost all words do have colour and nothing is more pleasant than to utter a pink word and see someone's eyes light up and know it is a pink word for him or her too.
air wind caves
November wind has a sound different from any other. It is easy to imagine the cave of the winds in some mythical Northland where the winds are born and the gods send them out to conquer the quiet air.