In My Garden - All Things Lovely

All Things Lovely

"If there is anything virtuous,

Lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy,

We seek after these things".

Said a prophet of God.

The loveliness of the world is our gift

From a loving Creator,

Who endowed some of his children

With great gifts

To be shared with all of his children.

Art, music and creative beauty

Are virtuous and of good report

And are part of God's plan

For our edification, our pleasure.

They become part of the knowledge of truth

That shall make us free.

This gift from our Father

Softens our lives

And opens our eyes and ears

To the shining splendor

Of our earth and skies

And approaching heaven.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Upon My Farewell To Okinawa

Upon My Farewell to Okinawa

"I shall not pass this way again."

I look for the last time upon this land

Of green hills and gentle people.

My heart is sad for I cherish them.

I have often found here

The handiwork of God.

A short time from now

The great manmade bird

Shall lift me into the heavens.

I shall look down upon these hills

And say farewell

In a few hours

I will have crossed the mighty ocean

And be "home" again,

But a large part of my spirit

Shall be forever here

In these ancient islands.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Day's End

Day's End

The day's end comes at last.

Tasks are pigeon holed in the desk of night

And weary hands fold themselves beneath the snowy sheet.

The thoughts rush back

And the prayer that came on bended knee

Is breathed again.

Peace seems to be not here.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Fragments Of A Rose

Fragments Of A Rose

I take a book from the dust old shelf.

Something drops.

The crumpled petals of a rose, long dead.

I kneel in silent wonderment,

And even yet, catch the scent

Of a forgotten loveliness.

Almost reverently, I touch the fallen fragments.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Rose of Impracticality

Rose of Impracticality

I am impractical,

That much I freely admit.

Oft time have I squandered

The price of my bread

For a single red rose,

And yet I know

That each time

That red rose

Has given me more

Than would the feasts of kings.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Woman

Woman

Dear God, here is woman.

We Know not if she be tall or short,

Dark or fair.

We see only the blinding light

Of her love,

Her hands uplifted in prayer.

She asks not for worldly gold

Nor a man made pinnacle of success.

These would be but empty tributes

To one who taught men the value of faith

And the humble grandeur of real love.

Here are the arms that held a baby

And taught him his first steps.

She gave him fortitude

That he might scale the highest mountain.

She armored him with faith

And knowledge to meet the challenge of life.

She bade him lift his face and find the light

When the way grew dark.

He knew

That he need never fear the dark again.

She comes of every tongue,

Of every faith,

Of every land.

Her love knows no boundary of hate or despair.

Yet the force that challenges her rights

Faces the most resolute of foes.

She will ever be on guard to protect her own.

See her now, oh Lord.

She stands in all her humility,

Her love,

Her beauty,

And her righteous dignity.

In her heart she knows no fear,

Her heritage secure

In her own steadfastness,

For her, dear Lord, we thank thee.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Summer

Summer

Summer is ending now and I am sad,

As at the departing of a friend.

She has been good to me,

Showering me with blue days

And memories that will never leave.

But now I look forward to the next season,

To strong winds that whisper of a high adventure,

To the drifting smoke that rises

From the burning of the bedraggled garments of summer,

To harvest days and beauty of golden pumpkins

And the sweet, earthy smell of crops

Being stored against the time

When the land will yield no more

For yet another year.

 

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - A Tree

A Tree

A tree,

In the spring,

Is fragrant

With new growth and tender leaves,

Giving promise of cool shade

When the heat of summer comes,

But remembering still

The beauty of bare branches,

Like black lace,

Against the cold blue winter sky.

A tree,

More than any living thing,

Braves each season in its own beauty,

Welcoming the robin in the spring,

The sparrow in the winter's snow,

Or man in summer's dappled shade,

Each with equal solicitude.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - The Seasons Of The Tree

The Seasons Of The Tree

The tree stands,

Its branches like black lace against the blue winter sky.

A sparrow hops from branch to branch, catching the sun.

I look again.

A rain falls softly now, but budding green leaves

Do not cover the nest-building robin.

And now it's July,

With summer sunlight falling in subdued splashes

Upon a woodpecker lazily pecking.

With autumn,

The tree has clothed itself in its most glorious raiment of red and gold.

I catch the flashing blue of a mountain jay.

Yet always there is magic

And the Creator seems close

When I look upon this living testimony

Of his care for us.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - It Is Good

It Is Good

God looked at the earth and said,

"It is good….

It is green and fair

And the blossoms fill the air with fragrance

But the sky looks empty.

I'll put just a bit of color there."

So he raised his hand

And a red bird soared across the firmament.

And its song so delighted his ear

He raised his hand again and again.

The eagle found a nest upon a rocky crag.

The sparrow flew close to the brown earth.

The blue bird became one with the sky,

And again, God said, "It is good."

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - A Tree (1972)

A Tree (1972)

To plant a tree today

Is to have a part

In the far off tomorrows.

To tamp the good earth about

The roots of a seedling now,

Is to envision a tree of green shadows upon this place.

It is to dream of a time

When someone will say,

"Bless those hands who left us this miracle, this tree.

To plant a tree today

Is to see children not yet born

Playing among its branches.

It is a dream

Of the songs of birds nestled in its shade

And of lovers meeting there.

To plant a tree today

Is to put your hand into the hand of the Creator

And say, "With Thee I am one."

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - The Prophet

The Prophet

Yea heaven attend!

Let all the earth give ear.

Let Gods and seraphs, men and angels hear; the worlds on high, the Universe shall know what awful scenes are acted here below!

For never since the Son of God was slain has blood so noble flowed from human vein.

Oh Illinois, thy soul has drunk the blood of Prophets martyred for the truth of God!

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Sharing

Sharing

My heart sings a hymn,

Because of God's goodness to me.

Though my troubles at eventide

Seem more than I can bear,

I stop to count the stars

And find a breeze cool upon my cheek.

Then I lay my troubles Before God's wondrous wisdom

And when dawn comes to the world

I find strength in sharing all things.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Loneliness

Loneliness

Love came and then was gone.

I was alone again,

Only now,

Loneliness was something I understood.

Where before I had covered its sharp edges

With the hope of what was yet to come,

It now was naked,

An unsheathed sword

That cut from me the remembered happiness

And made it sorrow.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Dreams

Dreams

Dreams seem fragile things.

Indeed, a single breath

May shatter them into a thousand fragments.

Yet, held with tender care,

And shaped with love,

They can be molded into a happiness

That all the winds of destiny

Can never break.

They become the masts on which

We set the sails of life.

They are hope, when hope seems gone.

They are the foundation of faith.

They become the memories

That record the smiles and tears of a lifetime.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Wedding Day

Wedding Day

"Something old,

Something new,

Something borrowed,

Something blue."

"Something old…?"

Yes, as old as time itself.

As old as yonder star,

As sunshine and wisdom.

Love is old.

"Something new…?"

Yes, as new as a spring morning.

As new as an opening flower,

As sunrise and untried wings.

Love is new.

"Something Borrowed…?"

Borrowed from the sunlight of each day,

The faith of those who have found life good.

From a million yesterdays,

Love is borrowed.

"Something blue…?"

Yes, as blue as a summer sky.

As blue as all the tears

The world has ever shed.

Love is blue.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Until Tomorrow

Until Tomorrow

Let me take today

And yesterday

And wrap them up gently

In the tissue of forgetfulness.

Let me, for awhile, not remember

The laughter

And the tears they've brought me.

Then when tomorrow is securely found

And I have learned to laugh again

And to love again,

I can unwrap them

And quietly remember the happiness,

But find the tears only a memory.

 

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - It's Whats Inside That Counts

It's What's Inside That Counts

Come know the truth of what we say,

It's what's inside that counts.

Come know true joy in every way.

It's what's inside that counts.

God's blessings are on each and all

Who praises the truth of this great call.

To every heart this truth recall,

It's what's inside that counts.

So, louder now, we swell the strain,

It's what's inside that counts.

Inspire our hearts, thy heights to gain,

Let truth and honor be our goal,

Exalt our life, make sweet the soul,

And ever on the chorus roll,

It's what's inside that counts.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - A Weapon Forged

A Weapon Forged

A great stillness surrounded the man, a hushed, waiting stillness. It was as though history itself had stopped to watch this moment. Then the man arose, flexed tired muscles, and looked at the finished work that lay on the table before him. In his heart he knew that it was good work.

Drawing an ink-stained hand across tired eyes, he crossed to the window and stood gazing out upon the quiet world of the night. The stars looked down, silent and clear, as though unmindful of the centuries of the turbulent history of mankind they had watched come and go. And yet the man felt that they must know that here, tonight, was the beginning of a world different from any they had yet looked upon.

Through struggle and strife, the centuries had brought to man a more complete, a fuller knowledge of freedom, of the natural dignity of human rights. Now, tonight, on that paper there on that table, lay the sum of what man learned of freedom, the total of a knowledge gained through thousands of years of tears and laughter, of heartache and the seeking of a God. The man, as he stood here, knew that this was not the end of the struggle, but he knew that here was forged a weapon that would, in the end, bring an ultimate victory.

As he turned back to the room, the lamp made the table an island of light in the surrounding darkness. It was as though he stood from a distance looking upon a stage. He was weary and tired, but surely it was not the weariness alone that brought him the vision. A vision of marching men in tattered blue; Of white topped wagons rolling toward the setting sun. A vision of a man, gaunt, ugly, yet divinely beautiful, saying in a voice as soft and as penetrating as music "A nation undivided!"; Of homes and churches and vineyards and schools and plowed earth, stretching from ocean to ocean; Of people of every race, of every land, of every creed, finding a haven beneath one sky and one law; Of a people who would, in the vary light of those missteps, find the right path and go onward again. This was the vision he saw. As he lifted his head and looked up to the place wherein, in the mind of man, dwells the Lord, tears washed the weariness from his eyes and from his heart. He was humbled that his hand should have been the one to write the end of one history and the beginning of another.

A calendar lay on the table and, as he reached to turn down the lamp, he remembered that the old day had passed and a new one had begun. He took his pen and drew a line through the dead day. He snuffed out the lamp, but the first light of that new day picked out the heading on the paper, "A Declaration of Independence". Then it slanted across the bright, untarnished date, "July Fourth, in the year of our Lord, 1776".

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Keeping The Faith

Keeping The Faith

"…witness be to them and Caesar that we still make war."

Centuries long, has been the fight for the human dignity of man. Then let them know, these 'Anxious Dead', that we have not dropped the challenge; That we pick it up and hold it aloft as our own banner. There is still greed and hate, but there is the torch of freedom that they lit and that we now look to it 'mid the thunder of modern warfare.

From the lonely cross on a hill to row on row of white crosses, marching across a field in Flanders. From Valley Forge to Gettysburg, these have died that we might live…live to know a dawn of freedom, perhaps a time of peace, a world in which men might know God.

This is our answer: Flaming guns and silent prayers. Ships and faith, planes and hope, marching men and dreams, this is our answer.

Over the face of the earth our legions pass with forward purpose and stout heart. Surely they, who are dead, must hear the marching feet and know that we have not forgotten. Do they stand as phantoms and watch with anxious eyes the struggle that once they fought in angry battle. Let them hear this pledge:

We shall not lay down the banner, but shall keep it flying high. All men who desire freedom shall see it and will know that we remember…

Remember quiet fields where once free men tilled the soil which became a hell of mud and shell, where men who would be free, fought and died. Remember blue-green seas where ships sailed with silks and plows, wheat and sewing machines and where death came and the blue-green waters became a place of lurking terror.

We will go onward and we will not fail. Fail? How can we fail those of the tattered rags of the new republic, who fought and gave our country birth? The battle tired men of Confederate Gray and Union Blue, they watch us now, from afar, and send us silent pleas to make their sacrifice not in vain. We hear them and in the darkness of our day, find hope, a promise for days to come, because they met the challenge. We remember! We who live will carry on the fight they so gallantly began.

1944 President Roosevelt's Funeral - Zelda is the 4th from the right in the last row before the Caisson with his casket.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline
Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.
First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Patriotism

Patriotism
Patriotism, morale; these are the American way of life that we know. At heart, America is a softy but now her brawn and muscles are strong and like every tough guy, she tries to hide her capacity for tears beneath a veneer of "Aw, that's a lot of hooey."

But most Americans unconsciously stand straighter when the "Star Spangled Banner" is played. And most American eyes dim when the glory of that banner is flown.

Patriotism, don't be afraid of overdoing or over-showing it. Be proud of it. It is to be, perhaps, your light in the dark days that lie ahead. When all that you are doing seems immaterial, when you are lonely, show the world that you are a softy. Pledge allegiance to your flag, though it be silently within your heart, and buckle down to do twice the job you were doing before.

America does have a capacity for tears. Witness the fact that no matter how much griping Americans might do about taxes and living costs, they still donated freely, and without obligation, and unbelievable sums to China relief, Greek relief, British Bundles, Red Cross, and every other type of charitable organization. This is their way of shedding tears for conquered peoples and weeping nations.

And above all, America has not lost her ability to pray. Whether they be Catholic, Protestant or Jewish, America's churches are filling now as they have never been filled before in all their history.

So now America is a brawny, tough guy who takes on all comers. But keep her, at heart, the softy who can laugh or cry with the world and yet fight to make it better

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Easter 1945

Easter 1945
We live in a world of shadows. Today, our fourth wartime Easter, finds us engrossed still in the ungodly business of hate. To darkness, there seems no end.

But Easter stands as a bright symbol of knowledge that in another day. Skies were dark, but God sent forth Light. A cross on a lonely hill amid black clouds, angry thunder and they who wept of the loss of their master.

Then the clouds broke, the sun shone and man found immortality in death! Today the clouds are crosses over the face of the earth, marking where men, valorous in action have fallen before the foe. The dark clouds of war hang low and the people mourn.

But look! Look back through centuries, not to the cross on the barren hill but to the glory of the day that came after. A day that brought solace and peace, a knowledge of the future, not only for that day, but for the days to come. When men are brought to their knees in despair, they can remember a promise of Light, they can find a love which overcame all barriers and became a staff for men through the ages to lean on.

When woe fills the earth, we can turn again to the promise of Easter, knowing that no man ever really dies for those who remember, for Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And who so liveth and believeth in me shall never die."

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Our Father Which Art In Heaven

Our Father Which Art In Heaven
On this Easter Day, may we turn for awhile from the inglorious business of hate and remember not so much the weary climb to Calvary, but more the golden sunshine of the dawn that followed? Oh, we are not unmindful of Gethsemane, of the thundering midnight of Calvary. They are all about us now. There is hardly one among us whom the havoc has not touched. Our boys wear the blue, the khaki, or the forest green. Many of our girls are far from home, some in uniform, most of them waiting and working for the coming peace.

But, dear Lord, here for awhile, we have found comradeship, a song, a place where a free people still laugh, still find joy. And we are thankful that we can pause in the wholesale business of hate and find that Christendom still remembers the greatest love of all, not only in word, but in action.

And we are thankful for so many blessings, for the coming of spring, for our past glorious history that holds promise for tomorrow, for a book, for the smile of a stranger, for the handclasp of a new friend, or the welcome of an old one. For the common knowledge that life can be good, for courage born of faith, for sunshine falling like a benediction through stained glass windows of a church. For purple clusters of lilacs, for the righteous fury of a sudden storm, or the solemn music of quiet rain, for the surcease of tears. So much we are thankful for, Lord.

And we are thankful for this place. For its laughter, its songs, its companionship. Yes, and for the memories we shall take with us when we leave.

This is America's second wartime Easter. For many of us, it is hard to remember that Easter means life when the hand of death has been so close to us. But be patient with us Lord, and teach us that the blackest hour the world has ever known was Calvary, but that the brightest morning in the history of mankind followed after.

So let it be in our day. Let us find peace and the fulfillment of life. Let the morning that follows after this black hour, be also bright. Amen.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline

Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline

Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.

First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - A Prayer For Thanksgiving

A Prayer For Thanksgiving

We remember the story of a time

When red men stood in reverent awe

As gray clad Pilgrims knelt

And, beneath the blue of an autumn sky,

For the first harvest of a new land, gave thanks.

Across lonely waters they had come

To seek and find a new way of life.

The barren shore had given forth its bounty

And now they knelt,

Ready to face the destiny of freedom.

We remember they who looked

To the hills of the setting sun,

And, crossing over, found new valleys.

They planted orchards and the earth gave forth fruit.

We remember the white topped wagons rolling onward,

Across rivers, over boundless prairies

And through mountain passes to another sea.

And on their pathway the land blossomed,

For men had stopped to live and build.

In western valleys they held in their hand

The first golden grains of new wheat

And on the prairies corn was rustling brown foliage.

Men raised their faces to heaven,

Giving thanks for the blessings bestowed.

We too have much --

A land stretching from sea to sea,

Unmarred by boundaries of hate,

A heritage of courage, steadfastness and faith,

A people striving toward a common goal.

In War as in peace,

The earth brings forth its harvest.

The unaltered course of season

Giving us courage in the darkness of our day.

Father, for all of this, we are thankful,

And for hope that never dies.

For remembrance of the happiness we have known;

For comradeship that lessens the pain of hate;

For dawn that gives us yet another day;

For our knowledge of right;

For the daily task,

We are thankful for prayer;

For the spires of churches touching heaven's dome;

For the good brown earth and blue skies,

We are thankful for the hymn of life that never falters;

For the passing parade of men;

For the ages that are past;

And the promise of ages to come.

And so we too lift our faces to heaven

And give thanks to Thou that dwellest therein.


The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline
Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline
Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.
First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118

In My Garden - Nature Weeping

Nature Weeping
Tonight it rains. Mostly it is a quiet rain. But now and then a ragged branch of lightning and an angry burst of thunder breaks the steady, monotonous sigh of the rain.

It is nature weeping. Like the mother she is, she weeps softly, as though to hide her tears, yet her heart rebels. Now and then her eyes flash and her voice comes forth, scolding angrily. But the rebellion passes and once more the tears fall softly, without hope.

This is the world, this place that God made for Adam that he might have joy. Yet into its seas and its rich, dark soil pours the red blood of its young, the young who should be the hope and the glory of tomorrow. Why is it so? Why must men turn their faces from the light toward the dark? Why must they bury themselves deep in the mire that is greed and hate and envy? Do they believe that hidden treasures lie there? Do they not know that it is but a quagmire that tricks them and makes them slaves to evil and, in the end, drags them down to a destiny of defeat?

"The Mother" weeps now. She shall weep again and again in the dark days that lie ahead, but tears are for healing. They cleanse bitterness.

The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline
Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline
Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.
First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118