He was filled with remorse that he had, for a few moments forgotten the Lord's great gift; that he had ceased to love the cross, as soon as he had drawn life and joy from it.

He hid his face in his hands and wept silently.

A slight noise above of a shutter being opened; something soft fell upon his head.

With a start, he removed his hands from his eyes; at his feet lay a tiny wild rose.

He shivered! For several days--either on returning to his hut at night, or on leaving it in the morning--he had found flowers on his threshold.