07/15/2020
These bright volunteers greeted me on my front lawn recently. I'm not sure how they got there, but they made me smile. They also remind me of another flower memory that I would urgently like to share.
In my teens, I enjoyed hanging out with other teens of course. At one of our very fun and friendly events, one of the girls decided to present a challenge. She asked one of the handsome but shy fellows to hold a beautiful, fresh, fragile daisy in his big hands. He was quite ginger about it, but she encouraged him and we were all game. After he inspected and admired it a bit, she then directed him to pull off the petals. He cocked his head in a pleasing way, again embarrassed and hesitating. "Do it like 'he loves me, he loves me not,'" and with this additional direction he began plucking the petals off. He let them float to the ground, as we all wondered where we were going with this. "Hold it up, so we can all see it," our friend said. Puzzled, he obeyed, holding up the wilting stem. "Now put the petals back," was the final challenge. He picked some up and fumbled, but we all knew it could not be done.
It would have been a miracle if our handsome friend could have restored it. Tearing things apart is easy. Anyone can do it if it is in their heart or if they have a careless, reckless moment, or even blind anger. Building, growing or creating something beautiful requires people with courage, patience, and vision. Other things are so awesome and light-filled that we can barely imagine them, much less bring them to fruition. I think of a newborn baby, or first love, or the fragrance after the rain.
Tons of daisies fill the fields, so one less is hardly missed. The concept of government by consent, by the people and for the people, is unique, fragile, and reflects a burst of bright hope. The desire for equality, freedom, and opportunity grows in the hearts of those who dream and shine light.
The bright flowers on my lawn startled me with their beauty. They were not perfect, as you can see. They were stained with dew and past their early promise of perfection. But I still stopped in wonder and smiled, and remembered a story about the fragility of life. Some things are worthy of admiration because they are good, fleeting, and hard to find. Some, like these petunias, find us. While I didn't create or even plant them, I still appreciate them. As you quarantine, I know you are thinking the same thoughts. What is worth it? What is rare? What is beautiful? Share it, cultivate it, protect it, and cherish it. Sending you love!