Marcy S., age 16, 1941

Dear Diary — Not quite so cold as yesterday, but still too wintry for comfort. I’m getting to be a regular old Southerner. No like cold weather.

I started the day off wonderfully and as I walked to school I imagined all the nice things that might happen during the day. The mountains were lying under a cold misty haze and the trees outlined against the gray-blue were beautiful.

We had Mrs. Chitwood again today in Spelling. Earl missed eleven words out of 27! Don’t tell anyone but I missed three.

English class was absolutely perfect! We talked about transcendentalism — believe I’m partly a transcendentalist. At least I believe some of their theories. Mrs. Bunch gave us lecture upon lecture and had us underline about every other line in Emerson’s essay on self-reliance. I never enjoyed anything so much in all my life. Mrs. Bunch suggested that since the year was still young, we make a list of our faults and our virtues, and try to mark out the faults during the year. Becky and I are going to do each other’s. Oooh! I love English when it’s like this.

After Latin was translated we had a study hall and I wrote Goody the note. Mary gave it to her when they dismissed at noon. I am excused at the first bell because of 12:15 class and going home for dinner. Mary said that she was so much in love that she couldn’t think about anything but — him! At noon I couldn’t help telling Daddy because it was so funny and that made Mary mad! She wrote me a note saying how disappointed she was in me. Well, that started it — we exchanged a few “sob” notes and finally I begged her that we call our friendship “quits.” At that she started lamenting her even being alive, and how perfect and clean and pure and high above her I was until I couldn’t help laughing. I’m always laughing at the wrong time. Just when I’m getting my life straightened out, this has to pop up. But I guess it’s better now than later. I hope we soon come to a decision.

In office last period Mr. Black had me type something for him and Coach borrowed my fountain pen. Mr. Howes came to talk to Coach about organizing folk games for the high school students. Oh! Just as he was leaving Bunny came in to see Mr. Black about a little child who had almost been killed. He’s a patrol boy. I thought I’d fallen out of love, but Gee!

Ruth, Helen, and I had fun coming home together.

Oh, yes, Mary actually did bring her diary for that nite yesterday, but, because I didn’t ask for it, she took it home again and says it isn’t coming back. But I did some fine and fancy begging. Sometimes I love Becky so much and then other times — .

Mother is in bed with the flu. Daddy stayed with her most of the day. I do hope she’ll be better soon. But at least she’ll get rested up.

Oh yes, Goody sent for me after school to say that if what I mentioned in the note were very important she could talk to me today but her daddy was sick and she should hurry home. I assured her that there was no hurry. Her eyes are so big and blue and pretty sometimes. She said, “I believe you could help me more along that line than I could help you.” Goodness: I hope she won’t be like Mary!