When I started out, I shed my coat and hat and walked briskly along. I was so happy because I was remembering Linda when she was with me. I was striding along, not burdened by a lot of clothes, and I was doing something that would bring happiness to other people with little children.

Along about three or four o'clock, I began to drag quite a bit. I was becoming awfully tired: shortly before that, I had gone into a home where I saw my Aunt Pearl and Uncle Lou's picture on a table, to my surprise. That was on Wadsworth Way at the home of Dr. Eleanor Scott, the daughter-in-law of my aunt and uncle.

I had gathered many appointments, but I felt as though, "Oh my heavens, I don't know how much farther my feet are going to carry me."

Well, along about four-thirty, when I was due back in his office at five o'clock, I sort of dragged myself onto the wrong street when, suddenly, I looked up and there, crossing the street, was the woman who had borrowed the little books from Linda.

She was just as amazed as I was to see her, and asked me to come in to visit with her for a few moments. I went in to visit her, and there I had a tremendous experience. I told her about Linda; she hadn't known. Louise was terribly hurt. She wept, and then she told me, "Eleanor, your child has appeared to me."" She said that, several days before I came to see her, she had awakened from a terrible sweat from head to foot. She had seen Linda, who had appeared to her in tremendous brilliance, so bright and so shining and clothed in a beautiful light of a soft, rosy color. Linda was dancing and laughing, and she said, "Go find my Mommy, and tell her that I want her"...No, she didn't say that; she said, "Go find my Mommy. She is terribly upset, and you've got to help her."

Well, when I heard that, it was just sort of a climax to a day of complete readjustment for me. I had been back in the old places where Linda and I had walked and talked and been happy together, and then to hear this-that Linda had appeared to this woman. The strangest thing about it all was that Louise Miller had awakened from this terrible cold sweat holding the book about the little kittens out of the set of Golden Books. It was a revelation of some sort to me that she was holding a little book out of the set that Linda so badly wanted before she became very ill.

I felt rather unable to cope with the tremendous happenings because at that moment I was dreadfully tired. I had to get back to the man's office and turn in the appointments for the next morning, so I said, "Louise, I'm so grateful to you. I just feel so completely happy and completely sad at the same time that I'd better say goodbye just now and then see you again soon."

So I left, and I turned in all my receipts at the Little Folks Studio. Mr. Lynch was glad that I had worked so hard, and so forth, and he wanted me to come back. But, when I got home that night, I had a terrible chill because I had gone ahead and shed my coat and hat. I came down with the flu right after that, and I was in bed for three weeks and nearly got pneumonia.

I never did get back there, never got the money that he was supposed to pay me, but I didn't want the money. I felt that my reward was so tremendous that I didn't want a cent for anything I had done. Just to have heard that Linda had visited Louise brought me happiness which was not to be bought at any price. I had found Louise Miller-the contact had been made. She knew where I was living, and I knew where she was living. So when the incident about the painting occurred, she was able to get in touch with me.

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