A Flower Legend

When he whose sinless spirit hasFor centuries been our guide and way,Compassed by stern and cruel foes,Was being forced up the dread hillOf suffering and shameful death,Weary and fainting 'neath the burdenOf the heavy cross on which he was to yieldIn agony, his stainless life,—'Tis said, that in his stepsThere bloomed a sudden wonder:—A snowy flower, that mortal eyeTill then, had never seen.To instant life it sprang beneath his feet,In perfect beauty, standing there,Its snowy head half bentAs though in tender reverence.Step by step, where'er his blessed feetDid press in pain and weariness the pitying earth,There bloomed a perfect flower;And thus they made a path of shining light,Which shamed and hushed the jeering, mocking crowd;But those who loved him, bent in aweAbove the snowy miracle, and murmured low:—"Behold, the flower of Christ!"In days long past, when life was setTo glad and gracious melody,I read this legend, fanciful and sweet,And since that day, a tenderer grace has clothed for meThe lovely flower, which in these later years,We call Chrysanthemum,—The Christ-flower of that wondrous day,From out whose bitter shamefulness,Has sprung a LightWhich yet shall fill the world!

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Testimony of Healing
Healed by Christian Science
April 12, 1900
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