Читать книгу The Fragrant Minute for Every Day - Ruth Collie - Страница 7

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What is more lovely, think you, than a fire, with dark, mysterious hills blacker than night, through which a cavern, like a great desire, glows golden red, its walls with gems bedight? And flames, like sprites so tantalizing, bold, flirt with these hilltops, daring, debonair; now blue, now red, now robed in flaunting gold, they flicker, bend, and leap into the air!

What is more lovely than a fire, think you, awaiting one who treads the homeward way, beaming its welcome, comforting and true, to Weary Worker at the close of day? I am much humbled when I think of fires which warm the spirit as they warm the hand, and with no questioning of our desires, commune in silence, commune and understand.

What is more lovely than a fire that leaps at Mother's rings and Baby's wriggling toes, and joins the laughter till the baby sleeps, and then sleeps, too—a full-blown, grey-rimmed rose?

Fourth Day