Birds of the Garden

Says the poet, "A garden is a lovesome thing." Who that has wandered in a well-filled garden in the season of its flower and fruit has not felt himself in an atmosphere of affluence and peace? Outside its high walls may lie a world of material interests and pursuits wherein is much haste and concern; but as we lift the latch of its narrow portal and, entering, shut the door behind us, we find that we have passed, as it were, into another world, into a place of sweetness and repose, yet not of slumber and idleness, for growth is here, ceaseless and orderly; it is the activity whose expression is harmony. In the flowers we find fragrance; in their form, grace; in their color, warmth and beauty; in their green foliage, coolness and refreshment. The tenderness of childhood, the joy of youth, the beauty of maturity, speak to us; and if we have the understanding eye we see those qualities not as things that come and pass, but as symbols of the unchanging realities of Life eternal glimpsed in that "lovesome thing" called a garden. Yet no garden is replete where only the things of the soil abound. It needs the attendant birds, those minstrels that all day long enjoy its pleasance and sing its praises.

Through such a garden wandered, one day, its gardener. The fruit bushes were laden with hanging clusters of ripening berries. At his approach a flock of birds rose from the bushes and flew to a neighboring tree. The gardener halted. He was young in gardening, and false belief whispered to him that birds were destructive to ripening fruit. Fear sprang into his thought, and with it a sense of resentment. As he stood thus came the thought, "Adam, ... where art thou?" Rebuked, but obedient, he awaited the healing message. It soon came in Mrs. Eddy's words (Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 514), "All of God's creatures, moving in the harmony of Science, are harmless, useful, indestructible." The words calmed the perturbed thought of the gardener, and the garden became to him, again, a place of peace and plenty; even the sparrows reminded him of our Leader's prayerful lines in her poem "Love" (Miscellaneous Writings, p. 387; Poems, p. 6),

"In reality"
July 18, 1931

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