As this work is published for the purpose of informing mortals concerning real life in the spirit world, that portion of it which spirit May has contributed will consist principally of her recitals of the work, doings, and surroundings of spirit children. The succeeding four chapters of this work treat upon these themes exclusively. Below we give a little brochure written by spirit May, entitled, “The Council of the Flowers,” followed by a few selections from her poetic contributions to the Voice of Angels, with which it is thought best to finish this chapter.
THE COUNCIL OF THE FLOWERS.
The soft, glistening raindrops of April fell over the tired earth, that had been held by wintry cold and storm for many long months. The bright golden sunbeams and the sweet, fragrant breezes of May swept over the fields and woods and lanes, calling their flowers forth to enjoy the beautiful springtime of gladness and mirth.
Myriads of blossoms, white and yellow, red and purple and blue, sprang up from their nests of dainty green grasses and leaves, to swing in the passing breeze and shake the perfume from their petals with which to scent the balmy air. Roses and lilies, violets and daisies, pinks and cowslips, and a thousand other flowers made the hedges and gardens and meadows and forests appear gay and beautiful and very sweet.
June came and went, followed by July and August, with their burning splendor of sunlight and heat. Many of the flowers bloomed in sweetness for a little while, and then dropped their leaves and died to earthly things, and passed away to the heaven where flowers bloom forever. Others, fragrant and fresh and fair, came to take their places, and so the whole world was sweet until the autumn came.
Down, down, dropped the leaves from the trees, whirling along through the air, no longer wearing their summer hue of green, but bearing the marks of age in the dull, brown appearance which had come to them.
The autumn time had come, and the oldest flowers began to shake their heads and whisper to each other that it was time for them to be gone, and that the winter must not find them here below. A great wind from the east, that had been listening to these remarks, caught up the words, and rushing over hill and dale, and wood and field, shrieked them into the ears of all the flowers that lingered there, causing them to draw their petals together and shiver in alarm.
Then the wise old flowers said: “Let us call a council, and discuss the propriety of leaving earth before the snow-king comes.”
And so they gathered together all who could come, and concluded that they had lived quite long enough in this world, and it was time for them to take their flight to the great Paradise of flowers, where in one great garden they should live and bloom, and enjoy the sunlight and the dew forever.
And then a great red rose, the last of its kind, shook its fragrant petals and sweetly said: “Oh, kind west wind, we have decided to leave this world for our beautiful home above. Please to carry this message to our friends and relations all over the land. Wherever you find a flower, no matter how humble it may be, or what its color, whisper into its ear these words: Be ready when the west wind comes again to take your flight from earth; all your friends and kindred will join you in your journey to the Summer-land; their mission is ended here below; their new life will be taken up in company with their sweet friends of spring and summer, who have passed on before them. There is joyful reunion for all the flowers. Here they shall bloom no more. When the winter flies, new flowers and other blooms will shed their perfume here, but you and your friends will blossom in the eternal world, where no wintry cold nor frost will ever come.”