Miss Sydney's Flowers Page #3

"Miss Sydney's Flowers" by Sarah Orne Jewett is a charming and evocative short story that explores themes of nature, community, and the simple pleasures of life. Set in a small New England town, it follows the character of Miss Sydney, an elderly woman with a deep appreciation for the beauty of flowers. Through her interactions with her neighbors and her passion for gardening, the story highlights the connections between people and the natural world, revealing how these relationships can bring joy and fulfillment. Jewett's rich prose and keen observations of rural life provide readers with a vivid sense of place and the enduring power of human connection.

• Short story

								

service.

The potatoes were done to a turn, Mrs. Marley shouted; and then Polly
sat down close by her to hear the news.

"You know I have been worrying about the cold weather a-coming, and my
rheumatics; and I was afeared to change my stand, on account of losing
custom. Well, to-day it all come over me to once that I might move
down a piece on Grant Place,--that new street that's cut through to
St. Mary. I've noticed for some time past that almost all my reg'lar
customers turns down that way, so this morning I thought I'd step down
that way too, and see if there was a chance. And after I gets into the
street I sees people stopping and looking at something as they went
along; and so I goes down to see; and it is one of them hothouses,
full of plants a-growing like it was mid-summer. It belongs to the big
Sydney house on the corner. There's a good place to sit right at the
corner of it, and I'm going to move over there to-morrow. I thought as
how I wouldn't leave Jefferson Street to-day, for it was too sudden.
You see folks stops and looks at the plants, and there wasn't any wind
there to-day. There! I wish you could see them flowers."

Sister Polly was very pleased, and, after the potatoes and bread were
eaten, she brought on an apple pie that had been sent up by
Mrs. Welch, the washer-woman who lived on the floor next but one
below. She was going away for three or four days, having been offered
good pay to do some cleaning in a new house, and her board besides,
near her work. So you see that evening was quite a jubilee.

The next day Mrs. Marley's wildest expectations were realized; for she
was warm as toast the whole morning, and sold all her candy, and went
home by two o'clock. That had never happened but once or twice before.
"Why, I shouldn't wonder if we could lay up considerable this winter,"
said she to Polly.

Miss Sydney did not like the idea of the old candy-woman's being
there. Children came to buy of her, and the street seemed noisier than
ever at times. Perhaps she might have to leave the house, after all.
But one may get used to almost any thing; and as the days went by she
was surprised to find that she was not half so much annoyed as at
first; and one afternoon she found herself standing at one of the
dining-room windows, and watching the people go by. I do not think she
had shown so much interest as this in the world at large for many
years. I think it must have been from noticing the pleasure her
flowers gave the people who stopped to look at them that she began to
think herself selfish, and to be aware how completely indifferent she
had grown to any claims the world might have upon her. And one
morning, when she heard somebody say, "Why, it's like a glimpse into
the tropics! Oh! I wish I could have such a conservatory!" she
thought, "Here I have kept this all to myself for all these years,
when so many others might have enjoyed it too!" But then the old
feeling of independence came over her. The greenhouse was out of
people's way; she surely couldn't have let people in whom she didn't
know; however, she was glad, now that the street was cut, that some
one had more pleasure, if she had not. After all, it was a
satisfaction to our friend; and from this time the seeds of kindness
and charity and helpfulness began to show themselves above the ground
in the almost empty garden of her heart. I will tell you how they grew
and blossomed; and as strangers came to see her real flowers, and to
look in at the conservatory windows from the cold city street, instead
of winter to see a bit of imprisoned summer, so friend after friend
came to find there was another garden in her own heart, and Miss
Sydney learned the blessedness there is in loving and giving and
helping.

For it is sure we never shall know what it is to lack friends, if we
keep our hearts ready to receive them. If we are growing good and kind
and helpful, those who wish for help and kindness will surely find us
out. A tree covered with good fruit is never unnoticed in the fields.
If we bear thorns and briers, we can't expect people to take very
great pains to come and gather them. It is thought by many persons to
be not only a bad plan, but an ill-bred thing, to give out to more
than a few carefully selected friends. But it came to her more and
more that there was great selfishness and short-sightedness in this.
One naturally has a horror of dragging the secrets and treasures of
one's heart and thought out to the light of day. One may be willing to
go without the good that may come to one's own self through many
friendships; but, after all, God does not teach us, and train our
lives, only that we may come to something ourselves. He helps men most
through other men's lives; and we must take from him, and give out
again, all we can, wherever we can, remembering that the great God is
always trying to be the friend of the least of us. The danger is, that
we oftenest give our friendship selfishly; we do not think of our
friends, but of ourselves. One never can find one's self beggared;
love is a treasure that does not lessen, but grows, as we spend it.

The passers-by seemed so delighted with some new plants which she and
John had arranged one day, that, as she was going out in the afternoon
to drive, she stopped just as she was going to step into the carriage,
and said she thought she would go round and look at the conservatory
from the outside. So John turned the horses, and followed. It was a
very cold day, and there were few people in the street. Every thing
was so cheerless out of doors, and the flowers looked so summer-like!
No wonder the people liked to stop, poor souls! For the richer, more
comfortable ones lived farther up town. It was not in the shopping
region; and, except the business-men who went by morning and evening,
almost every one was poor.

Miss Sydney had never known what the candy-woman sold before, for she
could not see any thing but the top of her rusty black bonnet from the
window. But now she saw that the candy was exactly like that she and
her sister used to buy years upon years ago; and she stopped to speak
to the old woman, and to buy some, to the utter amazement of her
coachman. Mrs. Marley was excited by so grand a customer, and was a
great while counting out the drumsticks, and wrapping them up. While
Miss Sydney stood there, a thin, pitiful little girl came along,
carrying a clumsy baby. They stopped, and the baby tried to reach down
for a piece. The girl was quite as wistful; but she pulled him back,
and walked on to the flowers. "Oh! pitty, pitty!" said the baby, while
the dirty little hands patted the glass delightedly.

"Move along there," said John gruffly; for it was his business to keep
that glass clean and bright.

The girl looked round, frightened, and, seeing that the coachman was
big and cross-looking, the forlorn little soul went away. "Baby want
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