WE shall not find many wild flowers in the woods or fields; and yet, now and then we get a mild, almost spring-like day in what many people are so fond of calling “dull, cheerless November." We will make the most of a fine afternoon, and try to find some lingering beauties; we would not miss the lessons wild fruits and berries may have to teach.
The hedges are still bright with their profusion of hips and haws, God's bountiful provision for the winter food of the wild birds. The jet-black berries of the sloe form a striking contrast to its rosy neighbors. We should hardly think at first sight that the sloe was very nearly related to the hips and haws, or in fact, a member of the same family. And in the spring, when the branches are covered with small white rose-like blossoms, it would be easy to trace the relationship. It lacks the sweet scent of the hawthorn, and few, perhaps, care to gather it, but, in the autumn, it has a beauty all its own, as the rich, blue bloom so often seen on its fruit, adds greatly to its attractiveness.
I have known dear young Christians who were sometimes tempted to feel sad, and get discouraged because they were not clever, and could not write or speak as others did. For such, the BLACKTHORN has its own special message. “That day," to which the eye and heart of the Apostle Paul was ever looking onward, will declare what the fruit has been; and the weakest and feeblest are just as dear, perhaps, even dearer, than the strong to the Heart of the Lord Jesus, our Good, Great Shepherd, of Whom Isaiah wrote, "He shall feed His flock like a Shepherd; He shall gather the lambs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom."(Isa. 40:1111He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. (Isaiah 40:11)) Perhaps, in our colder climate, the early-flowering Blackthorn may help to give us some idea of what the Almond Tree was to the people of Israel. In both, the flowers appear before the leaves, and the whole tree seems to awake from sleep, and burst at once into life and beauty. We remember Aaron's rod that budded and “brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds."(Num. 17:88And it came to pass, that on the morrow Moses went into the tabernacle of witness; and, behold, the rod of Aaron for the house of Levi was budded, and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded almonds. (Numbers 17:8)), and again our hearts are filled with praise and wonder at the goodness of God in choosing the almond as a symbol of His wonder-working power-the God of Resurrection, who alone could cause the seemingly lifeless stick to blossom and bear fruit. The Hebrew name of the almond is said to mean “the hastening tree." Many of us have seen it in gardens, and know how beautiful it is, when, in February or March, its leafless boughs are almost covered with pink and white flowers.
Whatever the BLACKTHORN is to others, let it be to you, dear young believer, always a reminder of Him Who is “THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE." The One Who wept at the grave of Lazarus. Not very long ago I came upon some verses in which the tenderness and compassion that filled the heart of Christ are so touchingly expressed that I need make no apology for adding them here.
“He (Jesus) abode two days still in the same place. (John 11:6.)
“The truest heart that ever loved,
Could give its object pain;
Could bear to see the suffering
That brought the untold gain.
The mightiest hand that ever moved,
Could wait to bring relief,
'Two days' apparent heedlessness
Of nature s deepest grief.
Would they have missed that sacred thing,
His sympathy—His tears,
Scene on which breaking hearts have leaned,
These eighteen hundred years.
The wonder-working word that gave
Their loved one back again,
Seems scarce as precious as the groan,
That proved He felt their pain.
Oh, heart that loves so perfectly,
Thou often waitest still;
And blessed are the emptied hearts,
Thy sympathy can fill.
Some years ago when visiting in one of the largest of the London Hospitals, owing to an unexpected change having been made in visiting hours, I found myself in one of the wards before the House Surgeon had finished his rounds. The patient, whose bed was next the door, asked me to take a seat near her. I did so, and soon found she had only been in the hospital a few days; her interest in Divine things appeared slight, and had been only newly-awakened. How and when, I will, as far as I can remember, tell in her own words.
“I was," she said, "very ill when I was received as an in-patient. The day after I came in, a lady passed through the ward with a basket, in which were small bunches of flowers. She gave one to each patient, saying a few words to each; her face and voice were kind, though I could not hear what she said, but I was feeling tired and did not want to talk, so, when she came near my bed, I turned my face to the wall, she thought I was asleep, so laid a nosegay on my bed, and passed on without speaking.
When I heard her go down stairs, I took up the flowers, I was always fond of growing things, and began to look at them. I found a small card had been tied on to their stems, with some words written upon it. I read them over two or three times; I never read the Bible much, but I seemed to know that they were Bible words. I put the card, as I thought, safe in my locker; but, in the morning, it could not be found, and when I asked the nurse, she said she had not seen it, and now I can't remember the words. You have a Bible, I see, perhaps you can tell me what they were.”
“Try and think of just one or two words, and I will ask God by the Holy Spirit, to bring the right verse to my mind."“There was something about sin on the card." “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."(Rom. 6:2323For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. (Romans 6:23).) “Are those the words?" “No, that's not what I'm wanting to hear. I know there was something about sin on the card, but there was something about blood, too."“The Blood of Jesus Christ His Son, cleanseth us from all sin." (I John 1:77The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all men through him might believe. (John 1:7).)
“The very words! The very words!" and the face of my listener lighted up with an expression of real interest. She seemed to know very little about the Gospel story, but listened with undivided attention, while I told her as simply as one would to a little child, the oft-told, yet ever new story of the Love of God, told out in the gift of His Son.
I never saw her again, for, on my next visit to the hospital I found that Mrs. M—had returned to her home, and her address was not known. But God can use even a single verse of Scripture, to carry out His purpose of blessing, and who shall say that "that day" may not declare that a work of God had not been begun in that hospital ward, which shall be to His praise and glory through eternity.
Perhaps some of my young friends are feeling something not unlike disappointment; and are inclined to say that they think the title of the book anything but a well chosen one. “THE VOICE OF FLOWERS!"And yet so few out of the many that have bloomed in our fields and gardens during the year have found a “Voice “in its pages. It will not have been re-written in vain if, to only a few out of the many who will, I hope, read it, it has suggested “a new language of flowers." If it has led them to take more interest in “nature studies,"every plant and flower that grows has a “Voice" but we want the opened ear, the child-like spirit that we may hear what its message is.
Flowers that have been pressed and dried during the summer months, may, during the long winter evenings, be formed into an herbal, or flower album. The name of the flower or plant should be written at the top of the page; where found and gathered, and anything you may have learned about its habits may be added; then search your Bibles for some suitable text. Take the sweet-scented Violet as an example. Of its manner of growth will it not remind you of the Altogether-lovely One, who said, “I am meek and lowly in heart."Growing as it does half hidden among sheltering leaves, or moss-covered stones, yet guiding us to the spot where it grows by its perfume, will surely remind us of how “He could not be hid." And as we enjoy its scent, may we not think of that Name, Whose fragrance is “as ointment poured forth.”
Nora says that she has heard that flocks of wild ducks are often seen by those who spend a summer holiday in the Scotch Highlands, and she would like to hear a little about these birds, and their homes and habits. The nest of the Wild Duck is never very far from the water's edge, though sometimes it may be on some dry spot in a bog or on marshy ground; often among tall stiff rushes which support it just enough to keep the eggs from getting damp. It is a small nest for the size of the bird, and the number of her family. It is built of heather stems and grasses, and has a soft down lining. Building begins about the last week in March, though sometimes not till the beginning of April. As soon as the Duck begins to sit, the Drake leaves her, so when obliged to leave her nest in search of food, the eggs are carefully covered with down so that they may not take a chill in the absence of the mother-bird. When the ducklings are hatched they are taken at once to the water, where they find themselves quite at home, and swim round the duck while she finds their food, but, as the young ones are generally nine or ten in number, we may be sure that it is no easy task to provide for the wants of such a large and hungry family. The eggs are pale green with a smooth surface.
The Moor or Water Hen, is a bird we may have heard or read about, but few, if any of us, have really made its acquaintance. Like the Wild Duck, it loves to build near the water's edge, often among the tall grass and reeds growing near the bank of a river. Sometimes the stump of an old tree supports the nest a few feet above the water, or it may be placed among the branches of a willow and rocked by every passing breeze. The nest is made of grass, the roots and stems of rushes and dry leaves, It is open at the top, but when leaving it the hen hides it by a covering of rushes. The eggs vary in number from six to ten or even more. Three broods are hatched during the season and the chicks first hatched help to feed the younger ones, and also in building a second, and even a third nest as more room is required by the large and fast-growing family.