“HOW I wish the sun would shine again. I don't like these dull, dark days, and oh, the leaves are falling fast. I am getting tired of trying to keep even my own little garden tidy.”
And with the complaint with which my story opens, Rose Howard, who, though she liked to see everything kept in order, had a habit of looking on the dark side of things, turned a very sad face to her mother.
Mrs. Howard was busy, and like most busy people, had no time to be unhappy. Looking up from her work for a moment, she said brightly, "Run into the garden, Rose, and pick up two or three fallen leaves. I think we will keep school and use them for our lesson book.”
Rose gladly obeyed; though she wondered very much what her mamma could be going to say about dead leaves, she felt sure it would be interesting.
She was soon at her mother's side again, and holding up an oak leaf, asked, "Why do the leaves come off the trees at all, mother? and I think the trees would look so much prettier if they were green all the year round, like your ivy, or the holly-bush in uncle Frank's garden.”
“Do you remember, Rose, how pleased you were when, after the cold, dark days of last winter, the trees seemed in the early spring to wear dresses of soft pale green? I thought the beauty of the sight was worth waiting for. But I have not told you yet why the leaves fall.
“Partly because the work given them to do for the tree is done, and partly because they are pushed off”
“How strange; but I can't understand at all how they get pushed off.”
“Look closely at the leaves in your hand, and at the end of the stalk you will see a tiny hollow. While the leaf was still on the tree a very small leaf-bud formed behind the stem, and as it needed room to grow it gave a gentle push to the old leaf till it became loose, then the wind shook the branch on which it grew, and the loose leaf fluttered down to the ground, where, with many others, it helped to form a soft carpet till, changed by rain and frost into mold, it becomes in another way of use to the tree.”
“But you said, I think, that the leaves had work to do. Please tell me about it; I never thought leaves were of any use, except perhaps to look pretty.”
“Tell me, Rose, how it is that we have had no grapes on the vine this year?”
“Oh mamma, what a strange question, you know it is dead. Father said he thought the long frost we had last winter got to its roots and killed it. The stems are all dry and withered, and there was not a leaf on it in the spring.”
“Now I shall be able to explain some of the uses of leaves. When you prick your finger a drop of bright red blood is often seen to follow. You know that blood is always moving to or from your heart through your whole body. If you cut the outer covering, or as it is called the bark of a tree, a fluid called sap will be seen on the surface. Now this sap rises from the roots of trees and flows upwards; it moves more quickly in the early spring than at other times. When the sap is doing its work properly, new wood is formed and green leaves appear.
“The leaves help to supply the tree with food by taking in air and moisture from the drops of rain that fall, or from dews that fall during the night. They are also of great use in throwing off gases which, if allowed to remain, would make the tree sickly and ruin its growth.”
“Is there not a verse in the Bible, mamma, about fading leaves? I am sure I have read it, but cannot remember the exact words.”
“Yes, Rose, it is in the sixty-fourth chapter of Isaiah and part of the sixth verse, ‘We all do fade as a leaf.'
“The falling leaves have a message for us. They seem to tell us that ‘the time is short,' that we, too, are passing away. But if we know that our sins have all been washed away by the Lord Jesus we can look up in gladness and thank God that this world is not our home. For we are going to see the face of the Savior who loved us, and gave Himself for us.”