It Is The Power Of Thought That

Then She Saw A Star Fall, Leaving Behind It A Bright Streak Of Fire. “someone Is Dying,” Thought The Little Girl, For Her Old Grandmother, The Only One Who Had Ever Loved Her, And Who Was Now Dead, Had Told Her That When A Star Falls, A Soul Was Going Up To God.

There Was Once A Merchant Who Was So Rich That He Might Have Paved The Whole Street, And A Little Alley Besides, With Silver Money. But He Didn't Do It--he Knew Better How To Use His Money Than That.

At First She Was Overjoyed That He Would Be With Her, But Then She Recalled That Human People Could Not Live Under The Water, And He Could Only Visit Her Father's Palace As A Dead Man.

To Travel Is To Live.

In The Middle Of A Garden Grew A Rose Tree; It Was Full Of Roses, And In The Loveliest Of Them All Lived An Elf. He Was So Tiny That No Human Eye Could See Him. He Had A Snug Little Room Behind Every Petal Of The Rose. He Was As Well Made And As Perfect As Any Human Child, And He Had Wings Reaching From His Shoulders To His Feet. Oh, What A Delicious Scent There Was In His Room, And How Lovely And Transparent The Walls Were, For They Were Palest Pink, Rose Petals.