Palestine History 1936
Returned home, we met a delightful couple, man and wife, leaving our gate. "This isn't a call," they apologized, "We know that you can not be ready for visitors so soon. We just wanted to welcome you to Palestine." With hearts still warm from this incident, what was our added joy, a little later, to have a charming girl from across the street run in quite informally with the announcement: "I couldn't wait to make a 'pop call,' but came to tell you how glad I am that you are to be my neighbors." After supper as we sat on our wide front porch discussing the events of the day, what was our surprise to have yet another "welcome to Palestine" call; this from a group of young folks.
Our father had boarded in their home before the family moved to Palestine. The way they made places for us in their social circle was very heartening.
The climax to these first experiences came one afternoon several weeks later. A phaeton stopped at the gate and a very pleasant, but determined lady alighted. "I have come to get your application to membership in the Self Culture Club," she announced. "we had a resignation today and I am afraid some one will learn of it and get her application in before yours. You must date it today and I'll testify that it was put into my hands within thirty minutes after club adjourned." I tried to demur. The Self Culture Club was limited to twenty members—doubtless many others had awaited for many months this chance to join. It was not right for me, a stranger, to push in ahead of these others.
My caller silenced every word; she bulldozed me into haste. As she stood over. me, I hurridly scrawled the application. She triumphantly pocketed the document, and departed. In due time notice came of my election to (membership in Palestine's only woman's club, an organization that gave much pleasure and incalculable profit thereafter. All these incidents, coupled with the fact that the home we had leased was the old Reeves home in "old town," and our neighbors were the associates one might appropriately choose were the citizenship of the state lined up for his selection, drove any inclination to homesickness from our minds. At once we were at home—never from the date of our arrival was there time or inclination to grieve for any other spot, however dear.
In December 1931, the writer returned to Palestine after an absence of twenty years. Enroute to her farm home at Elkhart, she had a delay of several hours in Palestine. Picking up a telephone directory she called a friend to whom she had been lost for fifteen years. The hearty pleasure in the answering voice left no doubt of her welcome. Then these words were uttered: "Come right on out. Supper is ready."