Richard Nixon left the White House for the last time as president of the United States on August 9, 1974. I was nine years old at the time, and I can remember his televised resignation speech on the prior evening. Just before his final exit, President Nixon made an impromptu speech to members of the White House staff that contained these words:

“Nobody will ever write a book, probably, about my mother. Well, I guess all of you would say this about your mother—my mother was a saint. And I think of her, two boys dying of tuberculosis, nursing four others in order that she could take care of my older brother for three years in Arizona, and seeing each of them die, and when they died, it was like one of her own.

“Yes, she will have no books written about her. But she was a saint.”

I can definitely say the same about my own mother. There will be no books written about my mother, either. Perhaps I will pay her more tribute in an article for next month’s paper as we near Mother’s Day.

My mother passed away on June 26, 2004. Even after all these years, things happen almost every day that make me wish she was still here for me to share.
The most recent of these has been a long time coming. Mother used to quote a poem to me after a spring or summer rain when the sun would come out. She said it was in one of the reading books she “had” in school.

In today’s world, it seems all things can be found via Google. I have tried in vain for many years to find a copy of that poem. One day last week, my search was rewarded.

I have a personal iPad on which I typed the words of the poem as I remembered my mother quoting them to me. This time, I used quotation marks to enclose the words. I was directed to someone’s post on LinkedIn. That post contained all the information I needed to find a copy of the very book from which I’m certain my mother learned this poem.

In joyous haste, I journeyed in the early morning hours to my office to see if I could order this book on Amazon.com. It turns out the actual book I had spent years searching for was Art Stories, Book One, printed in 1933, published by Scott, Foresman and Company. It was the first of a series of three books that were supplemental to the Elson Reader series. The poem was found on page 7:

The rain is over. Come with me.
A pretty rainbow we may see.
And in the garden, wet with showers,
Are rainbow colors in the flowers.

How I do wish Mother was here so I could share this with her!

It turns out that this book was the first of a series of at least three books “devoted to the appreciation of art. This group and similar ones in other subjects make up the Curriculum Foundation Series.” (Whitford, W. J., Liek, E, & Gray, W. S. (1933). Art Stories, Book One. Chicago, IL: Scott, Foresman and Company.) There were two available opportunities to order the first book of the series, and I ordered them both, just in case there was a problem with one of the orders. That turned out to be a wise idea, for only one of the two vendors offering the book for sale had a copy in stock. Luckily, I did order and receive within one week one copy of each of three books in this series.

Who knows why it was decreed that it would take me over 20 years to find this book? Even stranger, ask me why I can no longer find this information in the manner I used last week? All I can say was, “It was meant to be.” Possibly only this one time was it meant to be. Perhaps never again will it be meant to be.
Sometimes such is love. Sometimes such is friendship.

Answer to Question of the Week # 54
What do you call a chicken at the North Pole? (ANSWER: Lost.)

Question of the Week # 55
Why do shoes come in pairs? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)

From a book* given to me by Dr. Lauren Effler, Supervisor of Instruction, Union County Public Schools:

The Rainbow
by William Wordsworth
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So it was when life began;
So it is now I am a man;
So it shall be when I grow old,
Or let me die!

*Evans, P. R. (Ed.) 1956. The Family Treasury of Children’s Stories, Book Two. Garden City, NJ: Doubleday & Company, Inc.