Easter’s Promise

by Marie Myer

Now the snow begins to melt;

The earth is cold and brown.

I wonder where the flowers are—

There’s not a bloom around.

Do they sleep beneath the earth

And stretch impatiently

And wait until the sun comes out

To be alive and free?

And do you think that when we die,

We’ll slumber for a while

And then like flowers bloom again

With Heavenly Father’s smile?

Illustrated by Dick Brown