“How did you find your way hither?” asked he; “how could you come
here faster than I have?”
“I am a mother,” she answered.
And Death stretched out his hand towards the delicate little flower; but
she held her hands tightly round it, and held it fast at same time, with the
most anxious care, lest she should touch one of the leaves. Then Death
breathed upon her hands, and she felt his breath colder than the icy wind,
and her hands sank down powerless.
“You cannot prevail against me,” said Death.
“But a God of mercy can,” said she.
“I only do His will,” replied Death. “I am his gardener. I take all His
flowers and trees, and transplant them into the gardens of Paradise in an
unknown land. How they flourish there, and what that garden resembles, I
may not tell you.”
“Give me back my child,” said the mother, weeping and imploring; and
she seized two beautiful flowers in her hands, and cried to Death, “I will
tear up all your flowers, for I am in despair.”
“Do not touch them,” said Death. “You say you are unhappy; and would
you make another mother as unhappy as yourself?”
“Another mother!” cried the poor woman, setting the flowers free from
her hands.
“There are your eyes,” said Death. “I fished them up out of the lake for
you. They were shining brightly; but I knew not they were yours. Take them
back-they are clearer now than before-and then look into the deep well
which is close by here. I will tell you the names of the two flowers which
you wished to pull up; and you will see the whole future of the human
beings they represent, and what you were about to frustrate and destroy.”
Then she looked into the well; and it was a glorious sight to behold how
one of them became a blessing to the world, and how much happiness and
