ARE YOU A WEED? By Bernice C . Thursen
C AROL longed to help her mother with the garden. She remembered how beautiful it was last year and how much fun it had been to take the first violets and lilies of the valley bells to school. As she picked up the shovel which Daddy had brought home for her the night before, Carol knew exactly where she was going to dig. Neither Mother nor Daddy had touched that spot under the trees where last year there were such beautiful flowers. She would sur prise them and get the ground ready for planting before they came home from town. The ground was nice and soft and Carol’s shovel went down deep as she turned it over, pulling up those roots that surely would be some horrid weeds if they were left there. How happy she was when she saw the car drive into the driveway! She would show Daddy how she was making good use of her shovel. “ Look, Daddy!” she shouted, “ I have this bed all dug up and all the weeds thrown away!” Mother’s eyes got very big and she didn’t even smile as she turned around and said something to Daddy. As they came over to look at her work, she was disappointed because Daddy only said, “ You really have been work ing hard, Carol.” Of course Mother had dinner on her mind and maybe didn’t have time just then to look.. But she surely seemed serious at dinner and she and Daddy looked at each other several times as if they had a secret. After dinner they went out to the garden 'again and mother took Carol over to the place she had been spading. Carol could see that something was wrong. “ Mother, aren’t you glad I dug up the weeds out of this place?” she asked anxiously. Her mother answered slowly. “ Well, dear, I’m sorry but it would have been better if you had waited as Daddy told you till we could show you where to use your shovel. You see, you dug up my bulbs. They were very choice ones I sent away for and put in last fall.” Carol started to cry, but her mother put her arm around her and said quickly, “ I’m really glad it happened, honey. All through dinner I kept thinking of some other children who are ruining what can be a lovely garden, and you may be able to keep them from doing it.” “ What do you mean, Mother?” “ I’m remembering a remark I heard Margaret make the other day about a girl whose family just moved into the next block. ‘I wouldn’t be seen talking to a girl that wears such horrid clothes!’ ” “ I know, Mother. That’s what all the girls are saying about Gertrude but I thought she was a lot of fun and she’s really smart in school too. She gets better marks than Margaret.” “ But what are you going to do about it, Carol? Are you going to treat Ger trude as the other girls do?” “ Of course not, Mother. I never say A P R I L , 1951
anything mean to her or tease her about her clothes,” Carol assured her. “ But,” insisted her mother, “that isn’t enough. Gertrude is like those buibs. She’s hidden in the ground be cause she hasn’t had a chance to show what a lovely child she is. The clothes won’t last long, but Gertrude’s friend ship may be lost forever unless someone has love enough for her to rescue her from the new shovels the other girls are so proud of.” “ Oh, Mother, I see what you mean. What can I do to show her I like her?” questioned Carol eagerly. “ Why not have a hike? You can ask three or four of the girls and then make Gertrude your special pal that day because she’s new in the neighbor hood. When you get home we’ll have a little party with ice cream and cookies and Gertrude can help you with the serving!” “ Oh, Mother, that will be just the thing! I think it will make them ashamed. I won’t even tell them she’s going. I’ll just ask them to meet at our house. You can start us out right, can’t you, Mother?” That evening when she went over to Gertrude’s house to ask her mother if she might go, she was surprised to see that Gertrude was wearing an apron and doing the dishes all by herself. Gertrude asked her in and when Carol said they wanted her to go on a hike with them, she smiled happily, but said, “ I don’t think I can. You see Mother is not well enough to do the work by her self.” But from the bedroom a voice came, “ Yes, you can, honey, we’ll find a way. Bring your little friend in to see me.” Carol went into the bedroom and the lovely smile with which Gertrude’s mother greeted her made Carol feel she didn’t care if all the girls in the school snubbed her. She was proud to be the
friend of a girl who loved her mother that much. Gertrude’s mother insisted upon Carol’s sitting down beside her. “ You know, Carol,” she said, “ Gertrude has been my nurse for three years. She cooks and mends and cleans the house as well as a woman. I am sorry she has to be in so much and has to go without so many things. But it is the best we can do. You’ll see that she makes friends in the school, won’t you?” Carol could hardly keep back the tears. “ Oh, yes!” she exclaimed, “ I planned this hike especially for her so she will get to know all my friends. I don’t want her to be treated like a weed when she really is a bulb.” Then she told the story of the new shovel, and the bulbs. Gertrude’s mother laughed but there was a tear on her cheek as she took Carol’s hand in hers. “ You are a dear little girl,” she said, “ and God will;bless you for your thoughtfulness.” Carol felt a wonderful thrill as she left Gertrude’s house. She and her mother had a good talk, and made a plan for Saturday afternoon. So after the hike, when the girls arrived for the cookies and ice cream, Carol’s mother in an off-hand way told them how brave Gertrude was to take such good care of her mother. Pretty soon all the girls were crowding around Gertrude, asking her to teach them how to cook. Gertrude in turn was inquiring how she could fix her hair and clothes like theirs. Carol and her mother exchanged happy glances. Carol was thinking what a beautiful lily she had discovered, and her mother was thanking God that the best bulb she had was her own little girl. Page Twenty-one
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