Easter’s Promise

by Marie Myer

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    Now the snow begins to melt;

    The earth is cold and brown.

    I wonder where the flowers are—

    There’s not a bloom around.

    Do they sleep beneath the earth

    And stretch impatiently

    And wait until the sun comes out

    To be alive and free?

    And do you think that when we die,

    We’ll slumber for a while

    And then like flowers bloom again

    With Heavenly Father’s smile?

    Illustrated by Dick Brown