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Ida Chamness writings on travel and religion, 1927-1938
1927-09-26 Page 61
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-61- garden all her own when a little girl at home. This information endeared the spot to me all the more. This is also the mountain which mamma told me I must climb before leaving Norway. But I didn't get able to do that. It was affecting to me to see the mountains where mamma used to go and walk alone; and also with her cousins and chum; often sitting down on some rock in silence; and then kneeling in prayer in her twelfth year and up to her teens. (She coming to U.S.A. in her twentieth year). They were all tendered together, and her cousins said they feared they would not keep enuf to their seriousness if she left them. During the summer months it was rather difficult to get to sleep in the evenings: as the daylight continued until past midnight when it was only dusk. Then to see the sun peeping over the top of a mountain sending its beautiful rays of many colors into the clouds; was a sight grand and aweinspiring to me. And it was one of these mornings when I wrote my poem of "Roiseland" for I was filled with feelings of love and admiration for the beauties of nature and their Creator. I sat in the large room when it was raining; or too cold to sit outside;
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-61- garden all her own when a little girl at home. This information endeared the spot to me all the more. This is also the mountain which mamma told me I must climb before leaving Norway. But I didn't get able to do that. It was affecting to me to see the mountains where mamma used to go and walk alone; and also with her cousins and chum; often sitting down on some rock in silence; and then kneeling in prayer in her twelfth year and up to her teens. (She coming to U.S.A. in her twentieth year). They were all tendered together, and her cousins said they feared they would not keep enuf to their seriousness if she left them. During the summer months it was rather difficult to get to sleep in the evenings: as the daylight continued until past midnight when it was only dusk. Then to see the sun peeping over the top of a mountain sending its beautiful rays of many colors into the clouds; was a sight grand and aweinspiring to me. And it was one of these mornings when I wrote my poem of "Roiseland" for I was filled with feelings of love and admiration for the beauties of nature and their Creator. I sat in the large room when it was raining; or too cold to sit outside;
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