July 29
A prince went into the vineyard to examine it. He came to a peach tree, and said, "What are you doing for me?" The tree said, "In the spring I give my blossoms and fill the air with fragrance, and on my boughs hangs the fruit which men will gather and carry into the palace for you." "Well done!" said the prince. To the chestnut he said, "What are you doing?" "I am making nests for the birds, and shelter cattle with my leaves and spreading branches." And the prince said, "Well done!" Then he went down to the meadow and asked the grass what it was doing. "We are giving our lives for others, for your sheep and cattle that they may be nourished." And the prince said, "Well done!" Last of all he asked the tiny daisy what it was doing, and the daisy said, "Nothing, nothing. I cannot make a nesting-place for the birds, and I cannot give shelter for the cattle, and I cannot send fruit into the palace, and I cannot even give food for the sheep and cows,—they do not want me in the meadow. All I can do is to be the best little daisy I can be." And the prince bent down and kissed the daisy, and said, "There is none better than thou."
Anonymous.
Help us, O Father, not to wait for the great opportunities which may never come. Help us to do with faithfulness the duties which lie close at hand. In our homes this day and wherever we may be—at school or on the street or at our work—fill our hearts with the spirit of Christ and let that spirit speak in every word which passes our lips and shine from our faces and work with our hands. Amen.
July 30
I will be glad all day for this cool draught
And the clear drops I dash upon my brow;
For the fresh glint of sunlight on the tree
And the bird singing on the bough.
I will be glad for that stored strength of life
Which lasts the day because the spirit wills;
For the live air that wings from far and breathes
The vigor of the everlasting hills.
What scope of toil, what loss or what reward,
I do not know. It is enough that now
I pledge the day's good cheer with this cool draught
And the drops dashed upon my brow.
Charles P. Cleaves.
Our Father, we are nursed in Thine arms, we are rested in the heart of Jesus, so that we know no more the emptiness of earth and the poverty of time, for our citizenship is in heaven, already do we walk the streets of gold. Out of the highest rapture may we come to do earth's plainest work, earth's hardest toil, with patient hearts and willing hands, knowing that death can be but for a moment, that all things are meant, in the sovereignty of God to give themselves up to the rule of life. Thus may Thy children be loyal citizens, patient workers, honest merchantmen, wise parents. Be with all men who trust Thee; melt the mountains before their coming, and open the gates of difficulty ere they reach them, and give them to feel that the greatness of Thy mercy is the proof of its divinity. Amen.