. . :: O dear child soul, our loved and cherished, for this thy days had birth, like some tender flower on some grey stone portal to sweeten and flush with childhood immortal the ageing earth.
There are flowers in God's garden of prouder blooming brilliant and bold and bright. Long be thy days in rain and sunshine, often thy spring relume, gladdening thy mother's heart with thy beauty, flowerlike doing thy gentle duty to be loved and bloom :: . . Sri Aurobindo