January 29, 1918
Received by James Padgett
I am here, Mary Kennedy.
Well, my dear, I mean Leslie, you may think that I am a simple little English girl without having any knowledge of what the wise men of earth call "psychology;" yet, I know more about the soul than the scientist as he is known on earth, for I know that my soul is immortal, and not only that, but the reason why it is so.
How small a thing is the human mind, even of the most learned, as compared to the mind of a spirit who has received the Great Love of the Father in his soul and realizes that it is a part of the very essence of the Father's Being. I know that you would rather have your Mary be an Angel of the Celestial Heavens than to be one of the wisest of the wise in the spiritual planes.
Well dear, this is all interesting to us from a certain viewpoint, but really not so interesting as the Great Love that binds us so closely together. A knowledge of the soul, as I know it, is very vital, but a knowledge of what makes the soul at-one in perfection with its true soulmate is equally, if not more, important.
How poor are those spirits who are investigating the subject of the soul in a mere intellectual way, as compared with those who know what the soul is, without having to investigate with the mind. And when Love is known and realized how rich is the spirit who possesses and realizes the truth of the reality of that Love, proof comes without seeking proof and speculation is a thing unnecessary and unknown.
Tonight I am very happy that I can write to you and tell you what you already know; but to tell you is a joy, for when I do so, you must say, "Sweetheart, I love you in return;" and then you see I am happy in giving and receiving. If it were not so late, I would write you a long letter, but the writer tells me that he must not write more tonight.
So believe that I love you with all my heart, and trust in my efforts to help and comfort you, and above all pray more to the Father for His Love, and have faith that it will be bestowed upon you. Good night, dear heart,
Your own loving,