Page 46 - 1916 February - To Dragma

TO DRAGMA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI 125

w i l l alight on the l i t t l e green seed-sacs. T h e n they w i l l w o r k their
way inside the seed-sacs u n t i l they reach the tiny seeds."

" A n d that's what makes the l i t t l e seeds g r o w , " my l i t t l e daughter
said s o f t l y , "just as the pollen i n the buttercups and the apple blos-
soms makes those seeds g r o w . "

The Youngest Teacher smiled, and was lovelier than ever.
"Yes," she said, "the l i t t l e seeds w o u l d never be real seeds ex-
cept f o r that. The pollen travels i n many ways. Sometimes i t does
not need to go away upon the w i n d , f o r the bees and the butterflies
carry it f r o m one blossom to another, as i n the buttercups and apple
blossoms; and in some flowers i t does not go away at a l l but simply
drops upon the l i t t l e seed-sacs of its own flower, and works its way
down to the seed, so that it may give the l i t t l e seed what it needs to
grow. A n d that is w h y God makes so many, many pollen grains and
so many, many catkins, because though countless ones fly away, some
w i l l reach the mother trees. N o w away up in the tops of those
mother trees, the green catkins w i l l be guarding their l i t t l e seeds,
while the seeds grow and swell bigger and bigger u n t i l at last i n
May and June the seed-sacs w i l l burst open, and l i t t l e winged,
cottony seeds w i l l float away out i n t o the w o r l d . A n d though many
of them w i l l be lost like the pollen grains, some w i l l sink into the
ground, and by and by trees w i l l grow f r o m them.

" A n d the very most b e a u t i f u l part of i t a l l , " she concluded w i t h
a smile that transcended her face, "is that that is the way G o d has
planned so that H i s creation w i l l never end. I t is the way w i t h a l l
l i v i n g things—trees and flowers and animals and human beings.
The fathers and the mothers each help to make the l i t t l e seed grow."

" D i d we grow f r o m seeds, too?" the L i t t l e s t G i r l of A l l , ap-
parently a newcomer, asked wonderingly.

"Yes," said the Youngest Teacher without the slightest hesita-
tion. "Just as the l i t t l e seeds of the mother catkins live deep down
in the seed-sacs and grow, so you lived and grew beneath your
mother's heart u n t i l it was time f o r you to be born."

The L i t t l e s t G i r l , who was perhaps eight, d i d not seem surprised,
though her face was serious, and very sweet. She seemed to be
thinking that after a l l it was very natural that God should have
planned H i s creation harmoniously. I studied the faces of the other
children. Evidently the conclusion of the story, except to the Littlest
G i r l , was not new, f o r no surprise was manifest. I t was just a most
beautiful ending to a beautiful story. Every face was sweet and
serious, even reverent.

One little girl drew a long breath. "Isn't it a l l just wonderful?"
she said. A n d then the bell rang.