"Oh, it's jasmine!" grandmother and little Emily exclaimed, at the
same moment. And a mocking-bird, flying by, stopped a moment to trill
a sweet strain, as if he, too, was glad to welcome back this lovely
blossom of early spring.
Little Emily gathered the spray of golden bells very carefully, to
carry it home to mother, who was not well enough to walk in the
woodland and see it where it grew; and all that day and the next, the
sweetness of the delicate flowers filled the room and seemed to speak
of love and hope and cheer.
"They bring the sunshine and springtime right here to me," the little
girl's mother said, looking lovingly at Emily. "They are like a small
lassie I know, who helps to brighten all the dark places in my life."
Emily looked questioningly at her mother. "What does that mean,
mamma?" she asked. And grandmother, who was standing by, said, with a
smile:
"You thought the jasmine bells, shining in the dark wood, were a gleam
of sunshine, dear, brightening up the gloom. There are sometimes dark
places in our lives, you know; mother is having one just now, while
she is not well enough to go out herself into the sunshine. And her
little daughter, by being sweet and cheery, is just such a gleam of
sunshine to her as the jasmine bells were to the dark pine woods.
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