A Beautiful Bouquet for Tired Mothers
By Mrs. O. G. Place
BRIGHT bluebells, yellow Saint John's-worth, pink crane's-bill, blue and purple larkspurs, delicate dicentra, crimson vetch, snowy daisies with their centers of gold, and many others of name unknown, all intermingled with their appropriate green, make up my beautiful bouquet, which I do most sincerely wish the eyes of every one who reads these words could see. Doubtless you have all heard of Colorado's wild flowers; I had many times, but never have I so realized their beauty and variety as I do with this bouquet before me, gathered on yesterday's mountain trip. I want to tell you about it, because the circumstances attending its gathering make it doubly precious to me. We were wending our way down Sunshine Canyon rather wearily; for all day long we had been “on the road,” winding about, up and down, in all directions, in some of the many picturesque canyons of the Rockies. A lovely day in June it had been, which we had greatly enjoyed since early morning. In the afternoon, on our upward journey, warned by previous experiences that “flowers will fade,” we had checked the natural inclination to pluck a sample of all the pretty things along the way, by promising ourselves that on the homeward trip we would gather a bouquet. But now senses were satiated, and bone and muscle and nerves were weary. Of all save one was this the case: that one was our Indian Abdul, who seemed just as full of animation and admiration as when we first started; and stationing himself on the broad, low carriage step, at the sight of every new flower he would jump off, pluck it, and bring it back to me in pride, to form our promised bouquet. Tired, fidgety nerves said, “O, if he'd only sit still, and let the flowers be! they'll all wilt before we get home.” But the abiding Presence quickly and sweetly whispered, “O, but he thinks you want them, and he so much enjoys getting them for you!” So strength sufficient was given to accept, with a smile and a “Thank you,” each little blossom. And now this morning, as we are all rested, and the flowers are all freshened, my bouquet is indeed very beautiful, and very precious to me, not only as “a thing of beauty,” but also as a reminder that it is always blessed to heed the admonition, “Let every one of us please his neighbor for his good to edification.”