A Mountain Streamlet
by Carol Herff
As I parted the low branches of the trees I saw before me a beautiful little stream. It was as clear as crystal with many brightly colored pebbles on the bottom. The moss along each side was of an emerald green spotted here and there with dandelions, buttercups and violets. The streamlet was about four feet wide flowing along smoothly without a sound. It was so inviting that I thought I would follow it a little way. As I walked along the streamlet, it got more shallow and the surface was broken by thousands of tiny ripples. The color changed from the cool green shade it had been before to a silvery one. It made a little rushing noise, very faint at first but the farther I walked the plainer the sound became, until it was a silvery tinkling stream, as it slowly crept over the musical pebbles and then suddenly descended into the obis.
Written by Carol Herff, mother of Juanita Herff Chipman ("She wrote it when she was in finishing school in Pheledelphia [sic]. She was 16.")
