oAZ> a3 
A Spirit Flower 
My heart was frozen—even as the earth 
That covered thee forever from my sight 
All thoughts of happiness expired at birth 
Within me naught but black and starless night. 
Down through the winter sunshine snowflakes came 
All shimmering, like to silver butterflies 
They seemed to whisper softly thy dear name 
They melted with the tear drops from mine eyes. 
Then suddenly there bloomed within that hour 
In my poor heart so seeming dead—a flower 
Whose fragrance in my life shall ever be 
The tender, sacred memory of thee. 
—Stanton 
Ww. B. Otwell 
To you, Our many valued friends who do not 
know that my husband, Will B. Otwell, has 
passed away, I bring this message. 
His earthly work of cultivating flowers and 
trees is over, but in that beautiful country of 
the soul where he has gone, there are spiritual 
flowers of great beauty and I am sure he is 
tending there, blossoms even lovelier than the 
ones he tended here. These earthly flowers 
will bloom again and welcome Spring but he 
who planted them will not be here to greet you 
this year. 


Because he cared for you too and realized great happiness in his 
countless friends, often expressing himself as owing you, both his 
seen and unseen friends, an enormous debt of gratitude for your 
priceless friendship through the years, I would tell you more about 
him. 
His life was like a prayer and that prayer was to be good and to 
“do good. No one knew better than he the fine art of unselfishness. 
He was honorable, sensible, unassuming and undemanding—the 
product of fine living. He builded his character of the finest materials, 
knowing that nothing grows unless it is touched by the Infinite. He 
met life with a zest unbounded and it was his constant desire to do 
something worthwhile for those about him. In the growing of flowers 
as in many other things he willed that those flowers should bring 
happiness to others. 
And in that last hour he was unafraid because he had lived his 
faith in God and now he has gone to tend flowers in the sweet fields 
of Eden. For his sake and for the sake of the work he loved so well I 
shall continue this work of love and beauty he endeavored to bring 
into your lives. 
Winifred B. Otwell 
