THE SCHOOL-GARDEN 53 



plant did not bloom. All I know is that I 

 planted something apparently as lifeless as 

 a grain of sand and there came forth a 

 green and living thing unlike the seed, unlike 

 the soil in which it stood, unlike the air 

 into which it grew. No one could tell me 

 why it grew, nor how. It had secrets all 

 its own, secrets that baffle the wisest men ; 

 yet this plant was my friend. It faded 

 when I withheld the light, it wilted when I 

 neglected to give it water, it flourished when I 

 supplied its simple needs. One week I went 

 away on a vacation, and when I returned the 

 plant was dead ; and I missed it. 



Although my little plant had died so soon, 

 it had taught me a lesson ; and the lesson is 

 that it is worth while to have a plant. 

 Have some little means of growing plants, not 

 only to teach how to grow plants themselves, 

 but to teach the child the care of things, to show 

 that other beings besides itself have vicissitudes and 

 lives of their own, and to implant the germ of 

 altruism — the interest in something outside of 

 oneself. These means of growing plants should 

 be simple. A pot, a box or a hotbed may be 

 sufficient. Every child should have the handling 

 of at least one plant during the period of child- 

 hood. One plant cannot be handled without 

 leaving an impress on the life. 



The love of plants must be inculcated in the 

 school. In nearly every school it is possible to 

 have a few plants in the window. They may not 



