Queen of the Night

Long ago, says an Indian legend, there lived a wrinkled, kindly old grandmother, who all her life had yearned to be beautiful. When it came time for her to set her burden basket down, Great Spirit, granting her lifelong wish, touched her shriveled arms, so like dried sticks, and wherever he touched them flower buds appeared. Once each year thereafter the little brown grandmother is permitted to reign for one magic night as the beautiful Flower Queen over all other desert blossoms. And she who carried beauty unrequited in her heart for many years finds fulfillment in the haunting perfume of the Night-Blooming Cereus.