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Wind in the Dry Leaves

An Easter Thought

I heard the wind rustling through the dry leaves on a little copper beech outside my window, and it bore this message to me. The little tree was like those who cling to old thoughts, old scenes, the old aspect of things, for it keeps its leaves, though dry and withered, long after its fellows have been stripped bare by the winter blasts.

It is thus with many of us; instead of putting away the old habits, the old outlook—ways and means which have served their purpose—instead of stripping ourselves of erroneous thought so that the purer, higher light may dawn on our consciousness, we cling to the old form, though it has ceased to be beautiful or helpful to us.

Soon the bursting buds of spring will force away the old and withered semblance of a robe; so at length we shall all be led to welcome the freshness of Eternal Truth. The Wind. What is it? It is the spirit whispering— "Lay aside this withered garment; be brave as your fellows are to front the bitter wind; fear not the discipline of life; let me bring you the message of hope, spring, and eternal loveliness."

Little tree, lay aside your unlovely garment, stand bravely to the blast, and love shall clothe you in the freshness of the great awakening.

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E. Lovel Langton

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