NEW YORK, March 9, 1901
My dear spinster and non-[illegible]!
That was lovely of you. I did want to hear your voice, as it were, on our holiday, but it seemed as if it was too much to ask. And then you sent it without my asking. You are always good.
We had the most beautiful day. Everybody was so friendly and kind. The neighbors [thronged?] our house in the evening; some of the oldest friends came with tears in their eyes, and we were happy together. I am so glad that I have lived to see that day. Old feuds, little feuds that had made hearts sore were healed in our village and men that had turned their backs to one another [page 2] shook hands and made a new start, such a spirit of loving kindness was there abroad. That was the best of all. To us the day will ever be a beautiful memory, embowered with flowers and flags, much happier, my wife says, than our wedding day, for then we were parting from everything and everybody, while now see what loving friends surround us. I guess she is right, she always is; but I love to think of her in her bridal robes. Yet, she was almost prettier as a silver bride.
In New York they made her honorary chairman of the Kings Daughters Settlement, and called the new house after me. It should have been called after her, for I am not much. She is good. Some day I shall yet bring her to Chicago and take her to you, and when you come East again—let it be soon—you must send promise to come out to our home with Miss Wald. My love to you all. Ever yours
Jacob A. Riis