Did you notice that rose-vine at the east end of the front porch putting out new branches all over it? It will be full of roses pretty soon. That vine has been the wonder of the neighborhood for ten years.

Now suppose I never watered it, or fed it with good rich earth from the woods, or dug about it, what a stunted, sickly thing it would have been!

You have to take care of everything that’s worth having in this world. Love will die from neglect and abuse as quick as a rose-bush.

—from Aunt Hannah and Martha and John