Her sister Jennie, who sat sewing by the window, watched her with loving interest.
“Mother,” she said, at length, looking up from her work, “do you know what a generous little girl our Nelly would be if she was only a rich man’s child?”
“Is she not generous now, Jennie?” asked her mother.
“Oh yes, surely she is. But I was thinking how much good she would do, and how much she would give away, if only we were not poor.”
She saw that her mother was smiling softly to herself.
“She gives away more now, of course, than some rich children do. Just think how faithfully she works in that little garden, so as to have flowers to give away! I do not believe there is a house anywhere near us into which sickness or poverty comes where her simple flowers will not go.”
“Did you ever think, dear Jennie, of the other garden which Nelly weeds and waters every day?”
“No, mother. What garden do you mean?”
“The garden of her heart, my dear child. You know that the rain which the clouds take from the lakes and rivers comes back to refresh and beautify our fields and gardens; and so it is with our little Nelly’s good deeds and kind, loving words. She gives away more than a handful of violets, for with them goes a bright smile, which is like sunshine to the sick heart. She gives more than a bunch of roses, for with them always goes a kind word. And doing these little things, she gets a large reward. Her own heart grows richer.”