Who Cares?

<p>Birds called. Breezes played among branches just bursting into green. Daffodils proud and erect stood in clumps about the dazzling lawn.</p><p> </p><p>Young pulsing eager things elbowed their way through last year's leaves to taste the morning sun; the wide-eyed celan dine yellower than butter; the little violet hugging the earth for fear of being seen; the sturdy bourgeois daisy; the pale-faced anemone earliest to wake and earliest to sleep; the blue bird's-eye in small family groups; the blatant dandelion already a head and shoulders taller than any neighbor.</p><p> </p><p>Every twig in the old garden bore its new load of buds that were soft as kittens' paws; and up the wrinkled trunks of ancient trees young ivy leaves chased each other like school boys.</p><p> </p><p>Spring had come again and its eternal Spirit Spread the message of new-born hope stirred the sap of awakening life warmed the bosom of a wintry earth and put into the hearts of birds the old desire to mate.</p><p> </p><p>But the lonely girl turned a deaf ear to the call and rounded her shoulders over the elderly desk with tears blistering her letter.</p>