Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 January 1885 — The Legend of the Willow. [ARTICLE]

The Legend of the Willow.

One day a golden-haired child, who lived where no trees or flowers grew, was gazing wistfully through the open gate of a beautiful park, when the gardener chanced to throw out an armful of dry cuttings. Among them the little girl discovered one with a tiny but juststarting. “Perhaps it will grow,” she whispered to herself, and, dreaming of wide, cool boughs and fluttering leaves, she carried it carefully home, and planted it in the darksome area. Day after day she watched and tended it, and when, by-and-by, another bud started, she knew that the slip had taken root. Years passed, and the lowly home gave place to a pleasant mansion, and the narrow area widened into a spacious garden, where many a green tree threw its shadow. But for the golden-haired child, now grown into a lovely maiden, the fairest and dearest of them all was the one she had so tenderly nourished. No other tree, she thought, cast such a cool, soft shade; in no other boughs did the birds sing so sweetly. But while the tree lived and flourished, the young girl drooped and faded. Sweeter and sadder grew the light in her blue eyes, till by-and-by God’s angel touched them with a dreamless sleep. Loving hands crowned the white brow with myrtle, and under the branches she had loved laid her tenderly to rest. But from that hour, as if in sorrow for the one that had tended it, the stately tree began to droop. Lower and lower bent the sad branches, lower and lower, until they caressed the daisied mound that covered her form. “See!” said her young companions, “the tree weeps for her who loved it." And they oalled it the Weeping Willow. —Alta Grant