The Fragrance of a Gentle Life

A Girl with a Watering Can


Once in crossing a meadow I came to a spot that was filled with fragrance.
Yet I could see no flowers, and I wondered whence the fragrance came. At last I found, low down,close to the ground, hidden by the tall grass, innumerable little flowers. It was from these that the fragrance came.
I enter some homes. There is a rich perfume of love that pervades all the place. It may be a home of wealth and luxury, or it may be plain and bare. No matter; it is not the house, nor the furniture, nor the adornment that makes this air of sweetness. I look closely. It is a gentle woman, mother or daughter, quier, hiding herself away, from whose life the fragrance flows.
There is a wondrous charm in a gentle spirit. The gentle girl in a home may not be beautiful, may not be well educated, may not be musical or an artist or "clever" in any way, but wherever she moves she leaves a benediction. Her sweet patience is never disturbed by the sharp words that fall about her. The children love her because she never tires of them. She helps them with their lessons, listens to their frets and worries, mends their broken toys, makes dolls' dresses, straightens out the tangles and settles their little quarrels and finds time to play with them. When there is sickness in the home she is the angel of comfort. Her face is always bright with the outshining of love. Her voice has music in it as it falls in ch eeiful tenderness on the sufferer's ear. Her hands are wondrously gentle as their soothing touch rests on the aching head, as they minister in countless ways about the bed of pain.
"The lives that make the world so sweet
Are shy, and hide like the humble flowers.
We pass them by with our careless feet,
Nor dream 'tis their fragrance fills the bower
And cheers and comforts us hour by hour."
The Children's Friend, Volume 2