When Mary Thro' the Garden Went

When Mary thro' the garden went,
There was no sound of any bird,
And yet, because the night was spent,
The little grasses lightly stirred,
The flowers awoke,
The lilies heard.

When Mary thro' the garden went,
The dew lay still on flower and grass,
The waving palms above her sent
Their fragrance out as she did pass.
No light upon their branches was.

When Mary thro' the garden went,
her eyes for weeping long, were dim
The grass beneath her footsteps bent,
The solemn lilies white and slim,
These also stood and wept for Him.

When Mary thro' the garden went,
She sought, within the garden ground,
one for Whom her heart was rent,
One Who for her sake was bound,
One Who sought and she was found.

An anthem, "When Mary Thro The Garden Went" by Charles V. Stanford. Text by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1861 - 1907), great-grandniece of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The poem depicts Mary's search for Christ on the morning of the resurrection, but turns the tables in a most though-provoking manner.

Legend of the First Robin

The Legend of the First Robin

One day, long ago, a little bird in Galilee saw a large crowd gathered around a Man carrying a heavy wooden cross. On the Man's head was a crown made from a thorn branch. The thorns were long a sharp. The little bird saw that the thorns were hurting the Man. It wanted to help Him, so it flew down and took the longest, sharpest thorn in its tine beak. The bird tugged and pulled until the thorn snapped from the branch. Then a strange thing happened. A drop of blood fell onto the bird's breast, staining it bright red. The stain never went away. And so today the robin proudly wears a red breast, because it helped a Man named Jesus...

Author unknown