Suddenly, Kristie came hurrying to me, her faceaglow(通红的). "Come see Mary's basket," she exclaimed. "It's so pretty! You'll never believe it!"
I caught my breath at its beauty. The gently curledpetals(花瓣,翼瓣)ofhyacinths(风信子), thedaffodils'(水仙花)fluted(有凹槽的)cups, skillfully fashionedcrocuses(番红花)and violets - work one would expect from a child much older.
"Mary," I said. "This is beautiful. How did you ever manage?"
She looked at me with the shining eyes of any normal little girl. "My mother loved flowers," she said simply. "She had all of these growing in our garden."
Thank you, God, I said silently. You've given us the miracle. I knelt and put my arms around the child. Then the tears came, slowly at first, but soon she was sobbing her heart out against my shoulder. The other children had tears in their eyes, too, but theirs - like mine - were tears of joy.
We fastened her basket in the very center of the border at the front of the room. It remained there until school ended in June. On the last day, Mary held it carefully as she carried it out the door. Then she came running back, pulled a crocus from her basket and handed it to me. "This is for you," she said, and she gave me a hug and a Mary moved away that summer. I lost track of her, but I'll never forget her. And I know God is caring for her.
I've kept the crocus in my desk ever since - just to remind me of Mary and of the enduring power of love and faith.
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