"`I nod my head to all who pass, and
dreary nights and dreary days go by; but
in the happy house, so warm and bright,
the little boy plays all day with books and
toys. His mother and his father cherish
him; he nestles on their knees in the red
firelight at night, while they read to him
lovely stories, or sing sweet old songs to
him,--the happy little boy! And outside
I peep over the snow and see a stream of
ruddy light from a crack in the window-
shutter, and I nod out here alone in the
dark, thinking how beautiful it is.
"`And here I wait patiently. I take the
snow and the rain and the cold, and I am
not sorry, but glad; for in my roots I feel
warmth and life, and I know that a store
of greenness and beauty is shut up safe in
my small brown buds. Day and night go
again and again; little by little the snow
melts all away; the ground grows soft;
the sky is blue; the little birds fly over
crying, "It is spring! it is spring!" Ah!
then through all my twigs I feel the slow
sap stirring.
"`Warmer grow the sunbeams, and
softer the air. The small blades of grass
creep thick about my feet; the sweet rain
helps swell my shining buds. More and
more I push forth my leaves, till out I burst
in a gay green dress, and nod in joy and
pride. The little boy comes running to
look at me, and cries, "Oh, mamma! the
little blackberry-bush is alive and beautiful
and green.
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