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I did not know that ferns had berries in the winter.
These have survived, living on our back porch.
Only a Flower
Strange that the spring has come
On meadow and vale and hill,
For here in the sunless slum
My bosom is frozen still.
And I wear the wadded things,
Of the dreary winter days,
But out of the heart of this little flower
God gazes into my face!
   
 
 
 
Toyohiko Kagawa, 1888,
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