fast with delight that I could hardly speak to her when the lecture was over. Here was one who understood and had experienced the joys of the Inner World about which I knew so much.

It was just after meeting her that I was taken sick with one of the ailments which everyone had associated with me since I was born. I was then that I begged those who were with me to let Mrs. Homer come. Mrs. Homer could not come for she was going out of town and would not be back until morning. So instead she went to a florist and had him send up a bunch of flowers. I was almost too weak to turn my head on the pillow when they arrived, but I motioned for them to be put in water by my bedside.

The light in the room was turned out, but there was a blaze from the fire in the open grate, and it shone like a halo over the flowers. They were golden daffodils. It was the Spring time. I kept my eyes on them until I fell asleep, and in my sleep I had this dream.

I dreamt that the flowers were not by my bedside, but were by a wide-open window, through which the sunshine poured right into their golden hearts. They seemed to speak to me of health and life and joy, and their hands reached forth to tell me to leave my bed of sickness, and come forth into the lovely air of Spring, where God breathed forth His life through every flower.

As I looked on them, their radiance increased, until they became like the blazing gold of sunrise. I went still nearer and then I saw that in the heart of every flower—a jewel scintillated like the dew.

I awoke—the flowers were still by my bedside. The fire had sunk to a dying ember, but the light was in my soul. I knew that I had got my healing.

When the morning dawned, I was so well I wanted to get up and go out where the flowers had called me.

It was then that Mrs. Homer came, and when I told her my dream, she smiled and said, “Isn’t it beautiful? When I could not come to see you last night, I knew what you needed was not Mrs. Homer, but Him, who ‘sent’ His word and healed them.”