on a bank outside the palings, amid the most beautiful grass, grew a little Daisy; the sun shone on it just as bright and warm as on the splendid flowers in the garden, and so each hour it grew in strength and beauty. One morning, there it stood full blown, with its delicate white glistening leaves, which encircled the little yellow sun in the middle like rays of light.
It never once occurred to the little flower that it was seen by nobody, hidden as it was down there in the grass, and that it was a poor despised flower! No, nothing of the kind!
It was so contented! It turned towards the warm sun, gazed upon it, and listened to the lark that was singing in the air.
The little Daisy was so happy! as happy as though it had been a great holiday; and yet it was only a Monday. The children were in school; and while they sat there on their forms and learned their lessons, the little flower sat on its green stem, and also learned, from the warm sun and from all around, how good God is; and it was just
