Monday, June 18, 2012

Is it raining, little flower? Be glad of rain; Too much sun would wither one; It will shine again. The clouds are very dark, it's true But just behind there shines the blue. Are you weary, tender heart? Be glad of pain; In sorrow, sweetest virtues grow, As flowers in rain. God watches, and you will have sun, When clouds their perfect work have done. By Lucy Larcom