At whatever point a decent kid kicks the bucket, a blessed messenger of God descends from paradise, takes the dead kid in his arms, spreads out his incredible white wings, and flies with him over all the spots which the kid had cherished during his life. At that point he accumulates a huge modest bunch of roses, which he conveys up to the Almighty, that they may sprout more brilliantly in paradise than they do on earth. Also, the Almighty presses the blossoms to His heart, yet He kisses the bloom that satisfies Him best, and it gets a voice, and can join the melody of the ensemble of ecstasy."
These words were verbally expressed by a blessed messenger of God, as he conveyed a dead kid up to paradise, and the youngster tuned in as though in a fantasy. At that point they ignored notable spots, where the little one had frequently played, and through delightful gardens brimming with dazzling blossoms.
"Which of these will we take with us to paradise to be relocated there?" asked the blessed messenger.
Close by grew a thin, delightful, flower shrubbery, however some devilish hand had broken the stem, and the half-opened rosebuds hung blurred and shriveled on the following branches.
"Helpless flower shrubbery!" said the youngster, "let us take it with us to paradise, that it might blossom above in God's nursery."
The heavenly attendant took up the flower shrub; at that point he kissed the kid, and the little one half opened his eyes. The holy messenger assembled likewise some lovely blossoms, just as a couple of humble buttercups and heart's-ease.
"Presently we have roses enough," said the youngster; however the holy messenger just gestured, he didn't fly upward to paradise.
It was night, very still in the extraordinary town. Here they remained, and the blessed messenger floated over a little, tight road, in which lay an enormous load of straw, cinders, and sweepings from the places of individuals who had moved. There lay sections of plates, bits of mortar, clothes, old caps, and other garbage not lovely to see. In the midst of this disarray, the heavenly attendant highlighted the bits of a wrecked vase, and to a piece of earth which had dropped out of it. The earth had been shielded from self-destructing by the underlying foundations of a shriveled field-blossom, which had been tossed among the garbage.
"We will take this with us," said the holy messenger, "I will disclose to you why as we fly along."
Furthermore, as they flew the heavenly attendant related the set of experiences.
"Down in that tight path, in a low basement, carried on a helpless debilitated kid; he had been tormented from his adolescence, and even in his greatest days he could simply figure out how to stroll all over the room on props a few times, yet no more. During certain days in summer, the sunbeams would lie on the floor of the basement for about 30 minutes. In this detect the helpless wiped out kid would sit warming himself in the daylight, and viewing the red blood through his sensitive fingers as he held them before his face. At that point he would state he had been out, yet he knew nothing of the green backwoods in its spring verdure, till a neighbor's child presented to him a green limb from a beech-tree. This he would put over his head, and extravagant that he was in the beechwood while the sun shone, and the winged animals caroled gayly. One spring day the neighbor's kid presented to him some handle blossoms, and among them was one to which the root actually followed. This he deliberately planted in a vase, and put in a seat by the window close to his bed. What's more, the bloom had been planted by a lucky hand, for it developed, set forth new shoots, and bloomed each year. It turned into a magnificent bloom nursery to the debilitated kid, and his little fortune upon earth. He watered it, and esteemed it, and took care it ought to have the advantage of each sunbeam that discovered its way into the basement, from the soonest morning beam to the night nightfall. The blossom weaved itself even in his fantasies—for him it sprouted, for him, spread its aroma, and it delighted his eyes. Furthermore, it was to the bloom that he turned, even in death, when the Lord called him. He has been one year with God. During that time the bloom has remained in the window, shriveled and overlooked, till finally cast out among the sweepings into the road, on the guests' evacuation day. Furthermore, this helpless blossom, wilted and blurred for what it's worth, we have added to our nosegay, since it gave more genuine delight than the most wonderful bloom in the nursery of a sovereign."
"In any case, how would you know this?" asked the kid whom the blessed messenger was conveying to paradise.
"I know it," said the holy messenger, "since I myself was the helpless wiped out kid who strolled upon braces, and I realize my own blossom well."
At that point the youngster opened his eyes and investigated the radiant glad face of the holy messenger, and at a similar second they ended up in that great home where everything is joy and bliss. What's more, God squeezed the dead youngster to His heart, and wings were given him so he could fly with the heavenly attendant, connected at the hip. At that point the Almighty squeezed all the blossoms to His heart; however He kissed the shriveled field-bloom, and it got a voice. At that point it participated in the tune of the holy messengers, who encompassed the seat, some close, and others in an inaccessible circle, yet all similarly glad. They all participated in the chorale of recognition, both extraordinary and little,— the great, upbeat kid, and the helpless field-blossom, that once lay shriveled and cast away on a load of trash in a tight, dull road.