The poor women in the tenements of the Whitechapel road in
London had a contest, and the flowers that took the prizes were
grown in pots that hung out in the alleys of the worst section
in London; all the roses and the jonquils being victorious over
soot and grime. And heaven is an exhibition where souls will
receive recognition and reward for their victories, the flowers
of faith and prayer and hope that bloom resplendent midst
unfriendly conditions. For time’s sweetest flowers are rooted in
earth, even while they borrow their bloom from heaven.--N.
D. HILLIS.
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