The weather being sharp with frost, there is no one stirring in the streets, and the trees and bushes in the yard, being stripped of their leaves, look dismal enough above the white snow with which the ground is covered, so that one would think that all things must needs die with the year.

But, from my window, I can see the stars shining with marvellous brightness in the clear sky, and the sight thereof doth assure me that God still watcheth over the work of His hands, and that in due season He will cause the flowers to appear on the earth, and the time of singing-birds to come, and-the voice of the turtle to be heard in the land.

And I have been led, while alone here, to think of the many mercies which have been vouchsafed unto me in my travels and sojourn in a strange land, and a sense of the wonderful goodness of God towards me, and they who are dear unto me, both here and elsewhere, hath filled mine heart with thankfulness; and as of old time they did use to set up stones of memorial on the banks of deliverance, so would I at this season set up, as it were, in my poor journal, a like pillar of thanksgiving to the praise and honor of Him who hath so kindly cared for His unworthy handmaid.
January 16, 1679.
Have just got back from Reading, a small town ten or twelve miles out of Boston, whither I went along with mine Uncle and Aunt Rawson, and many others, to attend the ordination of Mr.Brock, in the place of the worthy Mr.Hough, lately deceased.

The weather being clear, and the travelling good, a great concourse of people got together.

We stopped at the ordinary, which we found wellnigh filled; but uncle, by dint of scolding and coaxing, got a small room for aunt and myself, with a clean bed, which was more than we had reason to hope for.