April, Monday 4, 1864
The days now passing are of so much paine and unhappiness to me, it is with the greatest difficulty I can have patience at night to make a record of my sad life. The weather today as gloomy as my feelings—cold and drizzling. Anna Nelson spent the morning, I went in to sit with her, did not stay long—oh! for happiness and peace—there is no love or sympathy for me there. I did not sit in the Parlor long after Tea—Father retired early—Laura and Bettie had a very good lesson—Laura now deep in slumber. Tippie Dora in bed asleep, but my poor Beulah, alas, the best of friends must part—I am alone, all alone, there is a mournful spell in the heart echo of that simple word, even when it bounds through the warm blood of youth!—I have thought until my brain feels like a burning fire—it is 1 o’clock, yet where is sleep or rest for my weary spirit—oh! heavenly Father, have I not suffered enough—remove this trouble, and if I am not humble then return it to me. Oh! try me once again, bless me and brighten my hopes—and guide and lead me in the paths of Righteousness.