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     The snow birds tarry with the storms, and pipe to the breeze. The cuckoo sounds her viewless flute to call the feathered troops back from their winter residences, and old Robin comes soonest to sing ‘mid blossom and blast. Are we as faithful, and do we challenge mankind as sweetly to flock to the Spring-time of God’s power to heal and to save? Will we stay and sing in the storm, if the buds scarcely disclose one blossom; and wait and work till all the mental elements of cold and heat and sunshine and shadow have combined to start the latent germs and seedlings of truth into quickened vitality? The modest violet lifts her blue eye to heaven.  Mary Baker Eddy (CS Journal, Vol. 1, No. 2, June 1883, p.4)

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