Forest City Courier, June 2, 1938
The magnolia, the most beautiful flowering tree of our country is all abloom now. It is superb with its great ivory flowers waxy as a camellia, blooming among the mammoth leaves. Their beauty, however, is marred at the slightest touch or bruise, as this produces a brownish discoloration of the petals. The flowers exhale an odor of intense sweetness, most of them growing far out of reach. What is more majestic than the magnolia, the tree of which the poets sing? It is the state flower of, Louisiana, and in the far south it reaches its greatest perfection.
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I once read a story of two men who had been lifelong friends, but had a misunderstanding over a mere trifle. Both of them lost their tempers and said harsh words that deeply wounded each other’s hearts. Dan, who had an unforgiving disposition, ignored Albert when they would meet, and would not speak to him under any circumstances. Albert, however always spoke a pleasant “Good morning!” or “Good evening!” whenever he met Dan. The years came and went, and one day Albert’s greeting struck a responsive chord in Dan’s heart, and he spoke to his friend whom he had ignored for so many years, and the long estrangement was ended.
We wonder if anything that friend might say or do is of such consequence that it warrants putting him in cold storage until he freezes to death. True, circumstances might arise, which make us feel that we cannot afford to, or do not care to continue close fellowship with a former associate. But to stop speaking when we meet! Or to pass him on the street as though he was a stranger! Ten chances to one, what was said that offended, was not meant the way we took it, and was said thoughtlessly and not with evil intent at all. But even if we experience the exception to the rule, and our friend did mean the worst, why not be selfish enough, yes, selfish is the word, to forgive him or her, and just go right on being friendly as though nothing had happened. We would feel a hundred per cent better ourselves, and furthermore it will decidedly take the wind out of the sails of the person who meant to hurt or offend you, if he or she did! Which is decidedly doubtful?
I like this little poem, author unknown, which I clipped a long time ago and pasted in my scrap book.
Life is like a journey, taken on a train,
With a pair of travelers at each windowpane.
I may sit beside you all the journey through,
Or I may sit elsewhere, never knowing you.
But if fate should mark me to sit at your side,
Let’s be pleasant travelers—it’s so short a ride!
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In our back yard is a brand new chicken lot. The sole occupant is a mother hen with a brood of brand new baby chicks. Aside from the possibility that this venture in chicken raising might be a success, I expect to enjoy it as a hobby. This morning as I watched the chicks running here and there, I marveled at the plan of nature. These chicks only a few hours old are navigating under their own power, running in search of food and water. If the sun is too warm they seek the shade without their mother’s suggestion. If they become chilly they invariably hunt a sunny spot. They stop eating when they have had enough. On the other hand, man, the most highly organized creature in the scale of nature, is unable to take care of himself at birth, dependent on others to feed him, dress him and keep him warm. Then when he is older, and no longer dependent on others, his ravenous appetite often causes him to overeat.
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Recently I had the privilege and pleasure of seeing one of Forest City’s loveliest gardens. I saw it at night under special electric lighting, the effect being very lovely and beautiful. But even then it surely could not surpass the beauty of this same garden under the magic rays of the sun. The color and arrangement of the flowers, plants and shrubs was very artistic, and to those who saw it, must have come a desire to make a garden and enjoy this oldest of all the arts.
Reprinted with permission from The Daily Courier. Copyright owned by The Daily Courier.
