The rain overtook them as they began the descent from the north Mexican highlands onto the plain of eastern Chihuahua. Slowly it crept westward, pelt… - Harold Keith

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The rain overtook them as they began the descent from the north Mexican highlands onto the plain of eastern Chihuahua. Slowly it crept westward, pelting the shoulders, the backs, and sombreros of the travelers. Then it stopped. But its coming had wrought a miracle. Flowers spangled the parched mesas with blossoms of pink, cream, and gold. The sodden soil smelled sweet in the icy air of late afternoon. Even the sinister thornbrush looked friendly in its jacket of small green leaves with a scarlet blossom for a boutonniere. The desert had flared into color and life at the lash of the rain.

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About Harold Keith

Harold Verne Keith (April 8, 1903 – February 24, 1998) was a Newbery Medal-winning American author. Keith was born and raised in Oklahoma, where he also lived and died. The state was his abiding passion and he used Oklahoma as the setting for most of his books.

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Alternative Names: Harold Verne Keith
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Additional quotes by Harold Keith

Remember this, Benjamin, and it will keep you on an even keel. In this life the world changes. The good times always give way to the bad. But the bad times move again into the good. Learn to expect change, and to ride with it. When good times come, don't get too proud because good times won't stay around forever. And when the bad times come, don't get the mullygrubs, like you've got them now, because things will soon get better. So fight hard. Don't feel sorry for yourself. Stay brave. Jesus stayed brave with danger all around him.

A newspaper story in the Daily Oklahoman of July 12, 1969, aroused my interest. It told about two boys, Gary and Larry Alexander, aged thirteen and eleven, who became foster parents to a family of baby bluejays after a stone from Larry's slingshot had accidentally slain the mother. Reporter Jack Jones wrote it. Gary and Larry lived in Dallas, Texas, but the incident occurred at Bethany, Oklahoma, where the boys were visiting their grandmother, Mrs. Ruth Lucille Cook. I located the Alexander brothers by long-distance telephone at Bethany. I talked to Gary, the elder. He told me in detail of the boys' heroic struggle to keep the young birds alive, although all had died within a few days of their adoption. I decided to write a book about it.

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