A GOOD and holy man sat down to rest one evening beneath the shade of the palm-tree in a far Eastern country, far away from home and friends.
The sun was sinking in the west, the air was hot and sultry, and all around him grew strange and wondrous plants and flowers.
It was a beautiful land, but the stranger's heart was sad within him. He had traveled far in order to carry the story of "Jesus and His love" into heathen lands, but here, among the followers of the "false prophet," none would listen to his tale. Even now as he sat beneath the palm-tree, the spires of the Mohammedan mosques gleamed white in the distance, and he could hear the voices of the priests as they chanted their evensong.
"How ever can I serve my Master in such a land as this!" exclaimed the holy man.
"All around me seems to brood the spell of an unholy influence; even the very flowers have taken part in heathen rites and ceremonies.
"Help me, Lord, for I am very weak," and the stranger bowed his head in prayer.
Just then a thrill of hope and joy passed through his sinking heart, for there in the green grass at his feet were the familiar star-like blossoms of a tiny plant.