Yes, but many a thorn without a rose.
* * * * *
A wide-spreading apple-tree stood in full bloom, and behind it a
straight fir raised its dark and tapering head. _Look at the thousands
of gay blossoms which cover me everywhere_, said the apple-tree; _what
have you to show in comparison? Dark-green needles! That is true_,
replied the fir, _but when winter comes, you will be bared of your
glory; and I shall be as I am now_.
* * * * *
Once, as I was botanizing under an oak, I found amongst a number
of other plants of similar height one that was dark in color, with
tightly closed leaves and a stalk that was very straight and stiff.
When I touched it, it said to me in firm tones: _Let me alone; I am
not for your collection, like these plants to which Nature has given
only a single year of life. I am a little oak_.
So it is with a man whose influence is to last for hundreds of years.
As a child, as a youth, often even as a full-grown man, nay, his whole
life long, he goes about among his fellows, looking like them and
seemingly as unimportant. But let him alone; he will not die. Time
will come and bring those who know how to value him.
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