December twenty-third.
Dear Miss Addams --
I am going to pass on to you, by way of Christmas greeting, a bit of gossip about yourself.
I was on the "L" train last Saturday with our piano teacher, Lula Hay. (We were on our way to see Pavlova dance at Medina temple -- rather a wonderful experience it was too!) And we were gloating together over that nice discriminating little editorial in the Post and consigning the Tribune to everlasting perdition.
So Miss Hay told me of a former music student of hers who subsequently taught in the High School at Cedarville. "When she went there," said she, "Jane Addams was more or [page 2] less of an abstraction to her. But gradually the traditions that hang about the village possessed her imagination and increasingly her letters to me were filled with Miss Addams."
You know in general -- but somehow at this season I want you to know more specifically -- that for very many of us the influence of you hangs about this larger village of ours and about the whole world life, giving it all a larger meaning and worth.
Thank you for yourself, God's very best gift to our trouble generation.
Winifred L. Chappell. [signed]
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