Flowers

Missionaries

I.

Just outside of a walled city there is a field of white—little, delicate, slim emissaries of peace, wafting their messages of healing broadcast. With a ringing of delicate musical bells, they say: “Come with me! Here is joy and peace.”

Within the walls a lonely watcher in a tower looks and listens.

Hidden from view are the tools of trade.

Gazing on the field, he muses on the infallibility of the law, which with undeviating regularity brings forth the thousands of tiny Heralds. Surely they are a symbol of some part of that Great Whole—some plan is back of their being!

He looks over the walled city which he guards, and nowhere is there anything which is as wonderful as what lies outside.

Ah! now he knows!

Outside is Freedom—with all its loveliness and fragrance.

Outside is God’s World with only bells, orchestra of rustling leaves and the waving baton of the trees.

Outside all is Peace—Harmony.

And what is within —— ——?

Envy, Vice, Hatred, and stalking ever at the head Fear—as Leader—whose orchestra is made up of glittering instruments of torture, deafening batteries, and with Triumph as the theme.

With gold, jewels and honors he lures to his band all within the walls, murmuring:

“My lands shall include all things. Nothing shall exist which is as perfect as my Empire.”

But——

Outside—are dainty, delicate, slim bits of loveliness, which, with gentle nods and soft waves of perfume bring the message that, Outside, all is as God intended, for——

“Consider the lilies! They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet I say unto you that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”