I bid you welcome, Friend! This thought is joy to me: that you should seek my sympathy, at the day's end. My walls—they will enfold you with tenderness and grace. Maternal arms are they to hold you in warm and safe embrace. Here you may cast aside the cares you had; discard them like old garments, drab and worn. In robes of peace, until to-morrow morn, now be you clad! See what sweet dreams I have called forth for you. They are the lovely shadows in the room; and on the walls, like fairy flowers they'll bloom, the whole night through. And some will hover gently o'er your head; and some press softly 'gainst your sleeping heart; and you will travel to a magic mart—a Dreamship is your bed. I bid you welcome, Guest! Hold out your hands to me, a loving friend. For now, Tired Soul, the day is at an end—and I will give you rest.
THE TEACHER
There's Amy, Daphne, Pam, and Rose; Elizabeth and Lucille fair; and Jellis with tip-tilted nose; Amanda with rich auburn hair. And other blossoms, row on row, standing so primly in their places. It sets the teacher's heart aglow to see their morning-glory faces. Now like a mother she must be—a loving mother wise and kind—clothing each tender memory in prettiest garments she can find. As mothers joy in dainty frills, so will she trim each baby heart with melodies and lilting trills, borrowed for them, from Beauty's mart. For ribbons—phrases gleaming bright, most beautiful to hear and say; each one a streamer of delight with which a little soul can play! For food—she proffers Truth's white bread. For drink—the Spirit's sparkling stream. With fairy-lore is Fancy fed, that they, her bairns, may sweetly dream.
PATRICIA ANN'S GARDEN
Lupins from Patricia Ann! She, though barely seven, has a garden of her own, a little bit of heaven. Blossoms that she grew for me—so her little letter ran—what gift could more lovely be. Lupins from Patricia Ann! Purple, pink and ivory white, here is one with tint of rose; did they, Pat, o'er-top your height, though you stood on tippy-toes? Thoughts are wandering for a span round about a vase of blue. Lupins from Patricia Ann—can I help but think of you. Patricia Ann! Throughout your days you a gardener must be. Gardeners have gentle ways, all their thoughts make melody. As your destined path you take, and places you must scan; there, sow seeds for love's own sake, blossoms from Patricia Ann!
"BLESSED ARE THEY"
"Blessed are they who are pleasant to live with." Blessed are they who sing in the morning, whose faces have smiles for their early adorning, who come down to breakfast companioned by Cheer, who won't dwell on trouble, nor entertain fear, whose eyes smile forth bravely, whose lips curve to say, "Life! I salute you. Good-morrow, New Day!" "Blessed are they who are pleasant to live with." Blessed are they who treat one another, though merely a sister, a father, a brother, with the very same courtesy they would extend to a casual acquaintance, or dearly-loved friend; who choose for the telling encouraging things, and choke back the bitter, the sharp word that stings. "Blessed are they who are pleasant to live with." Blessed are they who give of their best, who bring to the home bright laughter, gay jest, who make themselves charming for no other reason than charm is a blossom for homes, every season! Who bestow love on others throughout the long day—pleasant to live with and blessed are they!
A MOTHER SPEAKS
A lovely photograph? Ah, yes! But still it does not show the sun turning to copper each brown tress—but I have seen this done. You cannot see how in each cheek a laughing dimple comes and goes and plays a game of hide-and-seek in petals of a rose. You cannot see the bright star-shine within her beaming hazel eyes; nor see the colour, like red wine, denote a glad surprise. You have not watched her body's grace, its perfect, joyous symmetry; nor have you glimpsed her sleeping face, turned happily to me. My baby's photograph. Ah, yes! But you should hear her lilting voice with tones that break with happiness and make the birds rejoice. You have not felt her tiny hand caress your cheek; nor known her kiss. But if you had, you'd understand—she's lovelier, far, than this!