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DENVER DENTIST EXULTS OVER CRUSHED GRILLE
STATI f ARM
INSUIANCI
Last year he saved $32 by insuring with State Farm. "That's swell," said his
plumber,"but how do they pay off on claims?" So he's been wondering. Now his
claim's been paid so fast and fairly he knows State Farm was a good deal in
every way. Low rates for careful drivers so low that one car owner out
of two may save $10, $20, $30 or more. More full-time agents and salaried
claims men than any other company to give you "hometown service" wher
ever you drive. No wonder six million car owners have chosen State Farm,
and made us for nineteen years straight the world's largest car insurer!
YOU DON'T GIVE UP PROTECTION TO GET STATE FARM'S LOW RATES! f
(A artful driver's (and cartful buyer's) ear Insurance State Farm Mutual Automobi.'a Insurance Company Home Office: Btoomingion, Illinois
One or the most flatter
ing, and most terrify
ing, things that happens to
me is when one of you sends
me' for my verdict some
thing you've written.
I should have realized
that it happens to most of
us with the temerity to trust
our words to print. Immedi
ately we don the mantle of
the seer and assume the
mien of the sage.
We're in trouble.
You send me poems. You .
send me essays. You send
me short stories. You say:
"I wrote this and sent it
to a publisher. What do you
think of it?"
Or you ask me to print
your poems.
I wish I could. I wish I
knew more than you do.
But how do I know I do?
I try to answer the letters.
I know how you feel. I know
how I feel when I set down
the words which have been
curled around my heart
They are my precious blood,
and I submit them to you for
your pleasure or indiffer
ence. They would be safer
with me, but shadowed, and
they crave sunlight.
So do you. You want my
praise and acceptance. You
need to know that this part
of you is good and that
it must follow you have
achieved. It will hurt you
if I am cruel or disinterested
or brutally unkind.
Some op your words are
far better than my own.
Some of them are the work
of a wondering child who
struggles for a latch he can
not reach. I wish none of
you saw in me the oracle or
the teacher. I am cast into
despair by my own illiteracy
when you confront me.
I have never yet given a
loving lie to the gifts of your
thoughts, though I have
sometimes had to search for
the truth. Sometimes it has
not been necessary when the
words shine like stars on the
page. Yet even those I can
only admire, never analyze.
You honor me and I am
humble. But do not see me
as your guide to glory. I can
only walk beside you and
hold your hand in mine.
12 Family Weekly, October I, Oil