From These Hills

Beauty & Wisdom from Appalachia


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Magic Jewels


Touch-Me-Not, aka Jewelweed

“She brooks no condescension from mortal hand, you know,
For, touch her e’er so gently, impatiently she’ll throw
Her tiny little jewels, concealed in pockets small
Of her dainty, graceful garment, and o’er the ground they fall.
Her tiny magic jewels may be a fairy’s gift,
For scattered by the brookside they soon small leaflets lift.
What mortal knows the secrets of Flora’s children shy,
Concealed in field and meadow, that with the flowers die?”

Ray Laurance

 


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Fill It with Good

Thistle
Thistle

“You know…sin is a lot like that thistle you are wrestling with.
It can look so beautiful to the eye, be so pleasing to the senses,
you hardly notice the seeds are spreading
until whole fields are taken over by them.
Then they choke out the grass. Animals won’t eat ‘em.
You can’t cut ‘em down and leave the root.
They’ll come right back. There is nothing to do but
take the time and energy required to pull them out
in one piece and fill the hole with something good.”

Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far
by Amy Grant, 1960-
Singer-songwriter

 

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