ONE EASTER LILY'S MISSION
by Ada Stewart Shelton
The first faint flush of the fair Easter
dawn
Touched with its tender light a lily's
face,
So pure and fair that one would scarce
believe
It could find life in such a dreary
place.
High up amid the roof-tops crowded
close
Of wretched dwellings, stairways lead-
ing in
To darkened alleys, there the fair flower
grew,
O'erlooking want and misery and sin.
"My sisters sweet and fair will hail this
morn;
Within the churches' walls, with win-
ning grace,
They will proclaim to-day the Easter
joy;
E'en on the altar they will find a
place.
"What part is given to me this Easter
Day?
In all its gladness I can have no
share;
For even those who watch my leaves
unfold
Do scarcely know the day whose name
I bear."
Soon one drew near whose touch was
coarse and rough,
Withal the heart that guided it was
kind;
"The child that moans below shall have
my flower,
Maybe 'twill bring some comfort to
her mind."
Down the steep stairway, through the
alley dark,
Was the white lily carried, oh, so fair!
It seemed in passing through the dreary
place
To leave a benediction on the air.
Within a wretched, comfortless, dim
room,
Moaning with pain, with fever's vague
unrest,
A young child lay; with smile of radiant
joy
She clasped the Easter lily to her breast.
"Oh! is it really mine?" she mur-
mured low,
"It almost takes the pain; " the fair
flower lay
Close, closer pressed within that burning
hand,
Until at night both lives had ebbed
away.
Sweet was the life that the fair lily gave,
Though in the church's beauty she had
borne no share;
Lowly the work that waits in many a
path,
Rich are the blessings that lie hidden
there.
