BELLAIRE, OHIO 26 March 1925 My dear daughter, Your letter of the first of this month, just received now, and I cannot stop the tears from flowing, oh, the tears from crying. My heart is broken. Your mother is very ill, and, perhaps, when this letter will have reached its destination, who knows! She will be well again. God willing! Poor mother! Poor comforting angel of the family! Who knows! She suffers enormously, and I have no peace. I am disheartened, but I give myself courage and strength to withstand whatever misfortune. Your mother is ill, she is very ill! I can’t say more. I hastily embrace you with the hope that I can give you comforting news in my next letter. Infinite kisses, my dear child of the heart. Sic transit gloria mundi [Worldly things are fleeting]! Statutum est omnibus semel mori [All men must die once]! Your woeful Father