For all the February babies, including myself, my son and my friend ~Thia~
Mary did not ask any more questions. She looked at the red fire and listened to the wind “wutherin’.” It seemed to be “wutherin'” louder than ever.
I wasn’t even looking for them yet. We’ve had almost entirely cold cold spring temperatures. These grew in a warmer spot, by the kitchen door. Oh it was such an encouraging moment to see these first deeply rich purple wild flowers. I bent right down in the rain to pick them, knowing that soon there will be hundreds and thousands of them.
At that moment a very good thing was happening to her. Four good things had happened to her, in fact, since she came to Misselthwaite Manor.
She had felt as if she had understood a robin and that he had understood her;
she had run in the wind until her blood had grown warm;
she had been healthily hungry for the first time in her life;
and she had found out what it was to be sorry for some one.
~The Secret Garden
Sarah and I have been listening together and enjoying it very much. A beautiful book.
“I found them in a book last night, these withered violets.”
I ended up closing the first spring violets in-between pages of poetry given to me by my friend Marcia, years ago.