
The Legend of the dogwood
Cyrilla J. Manamann
Deep in the forest among sturdy young trees
Grows one that is lofty, the sturdiest of these.
With great majesty and a stately air,
Near the oak and the elm, the dogwood stands there.....
Whispering softly to the other trees,
Happy and gay in the early spring breeze,
Waving its branches high up in the sky,
Calling to the willow, "How happy am I."
To the woods one day came several men
With a wicked gleam in their eyes, and then
They said of the dogwood,"Tis just right!"
They chopped and hewed with all of their might.
Down went the dogwood with a crashing sound
That echoed through the forest for miles around.
Then those men dragged the dogwood away.
Over long rough roads, to a place where they
Made a large cross, both srtaight and broad;
"Twas the cross they used to crucify God.
That afternoon the earth darkened and sighed,
"Jesus of Nazareth is crucified!"
The trees in the forest hung their heads in shame
When the terrible news of Christ's death came.
Said the pine,"Because of a tree the cross was made;
Never again will I offer man shade!"
Like a tear, to the earth fell its acorn.
All fruit bearing trees dropped their fruit to the ground
with a sad, sorrowful, dulling sound.
The willow wept and dropped its head,
"My branches will weep forever," it said.
So you know today when you see
The beauiful weeping willow tree.
Only the poplar stood proudly by
and smiled as it watched the other trees cry.
"Christ died for sinners and not for me,"
bragged the proud and haughty poplar tree.
Just then an angel came flying by
with a golden cup for the Lord on High
That had dropped from the Sabior's side and head.
The angel heard the poplar say
That the Lord had not died for it that day
As he turned to speak to the poplar tall,
Down deep to the roots of the tree it went
And clear to the top shiver sent.
For the bold remark that you did make.
Your leaves will continue to tremble and shake
They will not be still, not a single one."
After saying this the angel flew away,
And the poplar leaves tremble even today.
Now the dogwood were most sorrowful of all,
And down to the earth they let their tears fall.
Then the forest became a gostly sight,
For every tear became a blossom white.
The blossoms formed a cross, made of petals four,
And the print of a cross, made of petals four,
And the print of a nail each petal bore.
Each tip was stained with rust of brown,
The heart of the flower was Jesus' crown.
The poor dogwoods wept and sadly cried,
"'Twas on one of our trees that the good Lord dided." "
The whole forest wakened, their hearts with pity stirred.
The woodland ground softened, the tiniest wildflower heard,
They raised their little eyes just opened up from sleep;
They crept close to the dogwoods and begged them not to weep.
Then the sun burst forth in splendor; This message Jusus sent,
'From this day, all dogwood trees will be twisted, gnarled and bent
Novermore will they grow straight, tall and strong;
Nevermore will men be able to use them for a wrong.
Whoever sees their blossoms will remmber the tears they shed
And think of Jesus, crucified and risen from the dead."
The dogwoods smiled their thanks and said, "we're glad to be
Twisted, gnarled and bent if our blossoms speak of Thee,"
So when you see a dogwood, examine it very well,

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To Thee with Love
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*******
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Dogwood!
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½Ã¸±¶ó ¸Å³ª¸¸(Cyrilla J. Manamann)ÀÌ ¾´ ¡°»ç¶û³ª¹«ÀÇ Àü¼³¡±(The Legend of the Dogwood)
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ÀÛÀº ºóÅÍ¿¡¼µµ »ç¶ûÀ» ²ÉÇÇ¿ì´Â Pink dogwood

±×´Ã¿¡¼ Á¶¿ëÈ÷ ÂüȸÇÏ´Â White dogwood
±×·¡¼ White Doogwood ¸¦ ¼ø±³ÀÇ ¾ð¾î¶ó ÀÏÄ´´Ù.

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