The Key Flower

The Key Flower By H. R. Merrill

Many years ago, while herding cattle on the hill-side, a young man found a wonderful blue flower. He stooped and plucked it from its stem and gazed admiringly into its azure depths. Never before had he seen such a striking blossom. As he gazed in rapture at his new-found treasure, a nameless, thrilling perfume seemed to envelope him. At length he lifted his eyes, after having drunk in the beauty of this flower which possessed a subtle charm that was new and delightful, and to his amazement he noticed for the first time an opening in the hillside along which ran a well-beaten path. The flower seemed to beckon him to enter. A little timidly he set foot upon the path, and began to walk into the tunnel. The perfume of the flower seemed to fill the entire opening, and to send his blood at a quicker flow.

His timidity vanished, and like a young god he marched fear- lessly into the very heart of the hill where, to his astonishment, the tunnel opened out into a square room which was lined on all sides with chests whose precious contents were revealed by the rays of liquid light which gleamed from them in the half light. The boy paused irresolutely. The clinging silence was at length broken by a still, small voice which said, "My boy, help yourself, but don't forget the best!" The lad followed the sound of the voice with his eyes and there, perched upon a massive chest, sat a little, old, kindly- faced man. Though startled at finding another in the room, one glance at the precious flower in his hand reassured him, and with trembling hands he laid it aside and began filling his pock- ets with the large and brilliant gems. When his pockets were all filled he was about to turn away when once more the still, — small voice was heard to say, "Don't forget the best don't for- get the best!" Thinking that he had not found the largest and most lus- trous gems, the boy turned again to the chest. As he did so his eyes caught the shimmer of yellow gold. He reached his eager hands into it and with joy felt its precious weight. He removed his hat and filled it as full as he dared to do: With flushed face he raised his priceless burden and started for the door. As

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he passed through the portals he heard the voice again, "Don't forget the best." But his pockets and hat were full and he had all that he could possibly carry, therefore he heeded not the admonition. "I have sufficient here to buy all I wish in this world," he muttered to himself, "even if I haven't the very best of all those gems." At length he reached the mouth of the tunnel, and as he stepped out into the sunlight it seemed that he heard the echo of the voice more insistent than ever, "Don't forget the best Don't forget the best!" He smiled complacently as he glanced lovingly at the pre- cious burden in his hat. To his consternation he noted a change going on in the gold itself. It seemed to be losing color and weight. Frantically he set his hat upon the ground and thrust — his hands into the precious pile his fingers found only dried leaves. He leaped to his feet and reached his hands into his pock- ets from which he drew, not the lustrous gems that had glinted in the half-light of the underground room, but in their stead worthless stones. He turned to the tunnel, thinking to retrace his steps and seize more of the precious things, but the tunnel — had vanished. Then only did he remember that he had left the matchless blue flower lying forgotten on the chest in the closed treasure cham- ber. No longer was he bathed in the subtle fragrance that seemed to make life so rosy and so full of joy. Again he began pacing up and down the hillside in search of the key-flower that would open to his eager gaze the tunnel which led to the precious things which his heart desired so — much but all in vain. He had had in his possession the key flower, but had care- lessly flung it aside in order to grasp wealth. How he berated himself for being a fool, unheedful of warning and admonition! In his distress he told himself that had he the flower once more in his possession not all the wealth and powers of the world would entice him to give up for a single moment that precious gift, that exhilarating perfume which made the world so beauti- ful to him.

I have adapted this story to my needs. It appeared in an old reader that once was used in the Idaho public schools. I have not told it just as it was written, as it has been many years since I read it, but it illustrates my point. In this life, God places in our hands the key flower, then he opens to us the treasure-house of the world and tells us to

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— help ourselves but while we are doing so lie keeps the admoni- tion ringing in our ears, "Don't forget the best!" Then, what is the key flower? In order to answer we must decide why man is upon the earth. To my mind the Book of — Mormon answers best "Man is that he might have joy." Joy in this life and in the life to come is the one sought-for thing. We all work to this end. True, some forget the life to come, but those who do, fail in this life also. If joy, then, is our goal — that which tends to bring joy is the key flower that we should keep ever with us, whether we seek that joy through wealth, service, or through any other avnue. — — Our beloved American poet Riley was once asked what he considered to be the greatest thing in life, that which contributes most to our success. I fancy he had in mind the "Mormon" idea of what constitutes real success when he made this characteristic reply:

Just to be good This is enough—enough O we who find life's billows wild and rough, Do we not feel how much more than any gold Would be the blameless life we led of old, While yet our lips knew but a mother's kiss? Ah though we miss all else but this, !

To be good is enough!

It is enough Enough —just to be good! To lift our hearts where they are understood; To let the thirst for worldly power and place Go unappeased; to smile back in God's face With the glad lips our mothers used to kiss. Ah! though we miss all else but this, To be good is enough!

Innate goodness and innocence to me represent the key flower which exhales a divine fragrance making life "one grand, sweet song." Whether we are called upon to traverse the rocky road of poverty, hardship, disease, or the sun-kissed road of af- fluence and luxury, if we carry that key flower as a part of our baggage we shall find the world a splendid place in which to live. He who waits until the hereafter to be happy will find that he has wasted, to say the least, many, many years. If we do not carry that key flower with us, all our successes, our wealth, our ambitions in the end will be found to be nothing but leaves — obnoxious leaves. The sort of goodness that opens the treasure-house of life is not a passive or a sanctimonious goodness. It is that sort which moves to positive action; that sort which is helpful, that finds in service its most beautiful expression, regardless of the dust of

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the earth; it is the sort that finds in the dawn of each new day a repetition of an oft-repeated miracle. It is the kind that keeps — the heart right ever able to sing with Browning: The year's at the spring And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hillside's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn; God's in his heaven All's rightwith the world! Little, petty failings such as we have —though discordant notes — do not entirely spoil the harmony of life. While there is none upon this earth who is absolutely and perfectly good, that we can be good is intimated by the Master when he said, "Be ye therefore perfect!" I have come to believe that our happiness and eventual — joy are dependent upon our goodness entirely not upon what we have; but what we are. Charles Kingsley, then, in a little four-lined rhyme gives us a splendid rule of life that will keep us ever in possession of the key flower: Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever; Do noble things, not dream them all day long; And thus make life and the great forever One grand, sweet song!

I Young man, you have not yet lost the key flower that God gave you — hang on to it with all your might; older men, if you have thoughtlessly left it in the treasure chamber, and the hill — has been closed to you dig it out. It is worth your utmost effort. With it you rob even death of victory, for the "sting of death is sin!"