| Things to Live For |
Chapter 5 |
Page 3 |
But meanwhile there is the multitude not gifted for great things – the one talented or two talented people, who think they can be of but little use in the world. Too often their temptation is to repeat the mistake and sin of the man in the parable, who thought his one talent too small to be used to any profit. But the truth is, no life’s endowment is too small to become a real blessing in this world. Even the smallest candle or taper will shed a little brightness, if lighted and set where it can shine. A match may light, in the lighthouse tower, the great lamp whose beams will flash far out to sea, showing vessels their way. Even a single drop of water may refresh a drooping plant or moisten a fevered lip.
But there is yet another kind of power for good which comes, not from any doing, even of little things, but form simple being. Though it were true of any that they could not help others by deeds of love, even the smallest, yet there are none who may not learn to live a life of constant helpfulness through the influence that goes out from them. A flower yields no timber to the builder for house or ship, and the utilitarian would say it is of no use. The one talented man of the parable would say it might as well be buried. Yet we all know that the flower has a ministry of being, if not of doing. In its own humble, silent way it is a great blessing.
“Flowers preach to us, if we will hear.
The rose saith in the dewy morn;
I am most fair;
Yet all my loveliness is born
Upon a thorn.
The poppy saith amid the corn;
Let but my scarlet head appear
And I am held in scorn;
Yet juice of subtle virtues lies
Within my cup of curious dyes.
The lilies say: Behold how we
Preach, without words, of purity.
The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.
“But not alone the fairest flowers;
The merest grass
Along the roadside where we pass,
Lichen and moss and sturdy weed,
Tell of His love, who sends the dew,
The rain and sunshine too,
To nourish one small seed.”
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