The little white daisies with their hearts of gold grew thickly along the path where we walked to Sunday School. Father and sister and I used to walk the 2 1/2 miles every Sunday morning. The horses had worked hard all week and must rest this one day so with Father and Sister Mary I walked to the church thru the beauties of the sunny spring Sundays. I have forgotten what I was taught on those days also. I was only a little girl, you know. But I can still plainly see the grass and the trees and the path winding ahead, flecked with sunshine and shadow and the beautiful golden-hearted daisies scattered all along the way.
Ah well! That was years ago and there have been so many changes since then that it would seem such simple things should be forgotten, but at the long last I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.
Inspiring Simplicity. Weekend Reads.
54 minutes ago