"Oh! yes, I quite understand—we have everything inside us there. The sun, the flowers, the moon and wide blue sky, with all the stars—we have them all there; I mean that besides all the beautiful things outside us, and around us, we carry others with us in our minds. Here you have a flower—and another, and another—six, all quite different. Now, what do you think flowers are?"
"Flowers," said the blind youth, puzzled and lifting them to his face. "Flowers are I fancy as if the earth smiled; but, in truth, I know very little about plants and flowers."
"Merciful Mother! what terrible ignorance!" cried Nela, stroking her friend's hands. "Flowers are the stars of the earth."
"What an extravagant fancy! And what are the stars then?"
"The stars are the eyes of those who have gone to Heaven and look down on us."
"Well, but then the flowers...."
"Are the eyes of those who are dead and have not gone straight to Heaven," said the girl, with all the decision and conviction of a Doctor of Theology. "The dead are buried in the ground; but as they cannot lie still there without just peeping out at the world, they put forth something which takes the form of a flower. When, in a field there are many, many flowers, it is because—once upon a time, long ago, a great many people were buried there."
"No, no," said Pablo very seriously. "Do not believe such nonsense. Our holy religion teaches us that the spirit quits the flesh and that our mortal life comes to an end. What is buried, Nela, is a mere shell of useless clay which can neither think, nor feel, nor even see."
"The books say so—but Señana says that books are full of lies."