[Written for the Sentinel]

The Point of View

A little song bird came my way,Once on a sunny summer day,And sang to me of love;But presently the song bird went,And I was filled with discontent,Nor saw blue skies above.

A little flower bloomed at my feet,Both tenderly and boldly sweet,And stirred my heart within;Then, some one idly trampled it,Blue skies the sun no longer lit,The world seemed full of sin!

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Christian Science is not negative
September 8, 1923
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