She was a dear old lady and she lived alone with her flowers and birds and a big gray cat. Everyone loved her for her gentle ways and many an act of kindness and yet when we wanted to do something for her, there seemed nothing that we could give her without hurting her pride and so bringing sorrow where we wanted to give joy. Finally the matter was settled and the result was so satisfactory that the story of it is worth passing along.
The minister's wife suggested the plan, and a score of us saw at once how feasible it seemed. We would give the dear one a floral shower, not a shower of flowers exactly, but of plants and seeds and those things which she loved. In order not to duplicate too much we gathered at the parsonage a week before the date set for the shower and when the time came we marched in a body to the dainty little house where we knew our coming would be welcome, each bearing a tiny gift that we felt could not be deemed a charity.
Not all the gifts need be enumerated but each would have proven a delight to any flower-loving heart. A dear old lady bore in triumph a lemon tree almost as tall as the little girl whose gift of a geranium slip was not discouraged. Some of us brought packets of flower seeds, rare ones which we had purchased for our own gardens but which we could duplicate. Some brought a slip from some favorite flower of our own in a pretty pot or jardiniere. Some came with seeds gathered last summer from flower bed or garden and some with a plant from the florist, burdened down with its load of blossoms. The dear old lady was delighted.
