The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1914-05-21
POWER OF THOUGHT
Remarkable Story Taken from
the Diary of Russian Pris-
oner, Tells How he
Created a Rose.
From The Near Way.


Something, 1 don't know what
had made me think sof roses that
day. Maybe it was the breath of
Spring in the air, maybe the scent
blown into the yard from the gar
den in front where so few of us had
the chance of going. So l went
back to my cell thinking of roses.
Roses would be the last thing you
would associate with cell.
But picture of a rose-srrig came,
into my mind, little stem with some
leaves and one sweet full red flower
on top nodding to me. 1t was al
most as real as the real
And then / began to think: Why
shouldn't | keep on imagining that,
perhaps in little glass on my table,
till it was real as the table, as real
as if 1t was actually there, scent and
all?
| did it and in few days / could
almost see and smell it. Every
time | came in, there it was, send
ing to me kind of welcome. 1t
was mine, my child. born of my
fancy, and l loved it.
Then l thought: Perhaps that's
the way the whole world is, thoughts
thought in a mind, great mind.
A rose made out of my mind.
But my mind is living; it's me, a
live thinker. Then why aren't the
things my mind makes and that live in
it, in way really alive too? Mayn't
that be the way the Great Mind
thinks all of us into livingness starts
us out upon ife-and love us same as
l loved my rose? Maybe loves at
the back of things and the un-love
has been put into them by US men.
This is diary that nobody's go
ing to see while Pm alive, at any
rate. And I'll put down the truth
even if the nobody that sees it reck-
ons me liar. The jailor came into
my cell one day. little after I'd
begun making the rose. He began
talking about roses! Seems TO me, :"
he said, as if you ought to have one
in glass to stand on that table.
Fond of roses?'
Rose Materializes
| could not believe my own ears.
But | said was mighty fond of
roses. I'll get you one" he said.
And he went out, was away some
little time. Il thought I'd pick you
out nice one," be said when he got
back. 1t was the very image of the
one I'd made for myself, same
flower nodding at me from the top
of the stem!
Now I say, wasn't the rose in my
mind a living thing? The jailor
didn't exactly exactly see it; at least
he saw it clear enough to hunt up
one just like it.
wonder if we can get to know
and somehow communicate with
that Great Mind that thought out
everything, us and whatever else
there is? If it thought us out it
must love us same as love the rose.
The jailor's hard man; cold as
steel. But why did he do me that
good turn? l was in the way of
loving my rose, the living thing l
created. Did he get a bit of my
feeling as well as my thought? 1
suppose | was throwing it out all
around mad he came inside of the
throw. How we'll things would go
if everybody were to get throwing
that sort of thing around! We'd
get to understand the Great Mind
that throws it around all the time
and has us all in it and in it's love.
Loves the natural principle of
things, at that rate, and if we throw
out enough of it we would get it
ourselves.
Secret of Creation
Love and imagination. | mustn't
forget imagination. Love energiz-
ing Imagination, that's the secret of
creation. I'll never get out of this
place. But l don't seem TO care as
much as / did. Seems as if I'd dis
covered something. The Mind is
all around, and when l die out Of
this cell and this body, / guess can
come to IT and know all about it
and take up something it may want
me to do. I'll make ready by Gull
tIvating love and imagination. There
must be some ways to get at that
job. | guess they'll open up.
though don't exactly see where
and how yet, l can imagine the
Great Mind all about me anyhow,
and 1ovo If