The
day that Caroline was born her father planted a cherry tree in the
middle of the flower-garden. He had chosen a tree with a short trunk, in
order that his little daughter could more easily admire the blossoms
and pluck the cherries when they were ripe.
When the tree bloomed for the first time and was so covered with
blossoms that it looked like a single bunch of white flowers, the father
and mother came out one morning to enjoy the sight. Little Caroline was
in her mother's arms. The infant smiled, and, stretching out her little
hands for the blossoms, endeavored at the same time to speak her joy,
but in such a way as no one but a mother could understand:
"Flowers! flowers! Pretty! pretty!"
The child engaged more of the parents' thoughts than all the
cherry-blossoms and gardens and orchards, and all they were worth. They
resolved to educate her well; they prayed to God to bless their care and
attention by making Caroline worthy of him and the joy and consolation
of her parents. As soon as the little girl was old enough to understand,
her mother told her lovingly of that kind Father in heaven who makes the
flowers bloom and the trees bud and the cherries and apples grow ruddy
and ripe; she told her also of the blessed Son of God, once an infant
like herself, who died for all the world.
The cherry tree in the middle of the garden was given to Caroline for
her own, and it was a greater treasure to her than were all the flowers.
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