Legend of the White Daisy

In Wales, the old folks say “Despise not the humblest of flowers for they are God’s gift to the poor and lowly,” and they tell many curious stories about them, especially the daisy. This is one tale our great grandmother used to tell.

Once upon a time, a brother and sister were playing in the daisy fields as children will when Robert, the brother, said to his sister, “Eliza, I am old enough now to go out into the world to earn my living, so as to relieve our kind uncle of the burden of supporting us all.”

Eliza began to cry, but Robert comforted her by making daisy chains which he said were the gold and silver he would bring back. He dried her tears and reminded her that the God who took such good care of the daisy would take care of him, too.

At first there were letters regularly from Robert. Then, many years passed with no word from him. In the meanwhile, the kind uncle died and Eliza and her mother had to move to a little cottage on a distant hillside. No road led to their place and they were lonely and longed for the day Robert would return.

When it seemed that he never would come back, Eliza thought, “I will make a flower bed and put a border of daisies around it in memory of Robert. He loved them so much.” She went to the fields and dug up daisy roots but since she could find no other flowers for the center of the bed, the daisies filled it up. They spread all over the hill top, looking like snow.

One day, a stranger was seen slow-ly walking along the road. He was strong and well-dressed but his shoulders sagged and his step was uncertain. At last, he sat on a boulder and buried his face in his hands as if in despair. When he raised his eyes, they fell on the white spot on the hill top. “Daisies !” he exclaimed, “How did they get there?” and he was up and climbing, all weariness gone.

When he came within sight of the cottage, a young woman appeared in the doorway. He approached her to ask the question he had repeated in vain so many times, “Knowest thou aught of the widow Roberts, and her daughter Eliza ?” The words were not spoken, for the young woman threw her arms around him, crying, “Robert !” The stranger was indeed her long-lost brother.

Robert was able to buy back the farm and there they lived happily ever after. The legend goes on to say that when Eliza’s grandson came to America, he brought with him the seeds of the daisy.

And so, it is said, the field daisy, often thought of as a native wildflower, was first brought to this country from Wales.

By CG Jones

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