A compilation of some of the best articles by Jack W. Hoffman I share with you this letter my dad wrote to my grandmother. They're sorely missed and lovingly remembered. Although it visits us on soft steps, it is wrapped in blazing ribbons of color that shout attention from tree top to meadow. Its splendor is no more evident than here in Indian River where color is dazzling, where crisp mornings and evenings are invigorating, and where even in rain the afternoons are a joy beneath the canopy of trees that surround our office and home. But this rainy afternoon, having just learned that you are seriously ill, the rustling of colorful leaves remind me that the palate of autumn comes and goes to come again another year, but a man's mother comes and stays but once.
Mothers are more precious than autumn.
Toiled in the fields, on bleeding knees, to thin sugar beets, and taught her children to work hard at any task they encounter. Married a man of like frugal character and German Russian heritage, and taught her children moderation and appreciation of their heritage. Managed to carry on in her grief of losing five and six year olds to scarlet fever, in the span of a month, and taught her remaining children to love God and the life He gives them. Survived a Depression that cost her husband's job and their home and taught her children to take nothing for granted. Prodded and cajoled, and taught her children to understand the importance of an education.