"Look at the purple," he begged as he grabbed my hand to show me the single, tiny purple flower nestled in the garden rubble. "It's bu-ful!" he sighed as we examined the tiny miracle that somehow emerged from some wayward seed that nestled in garden rubble. At that moment, I was so glad I had not, yet, cleaned out that garden bed!
To be honest, there were bushes filled with thousands of emerging forsythia buds and patches filled with daffodils in the neighbors' yards; but, the tiny crocus of unknown of origin was at pre-school-eye-level and within inches of the impromptu sand-dirt-construction-pit on a warm spring morning filled with hope and promise.
Like spring itself, this tiny flower was a reminder that bright sunshine will surely follow dark days.
2 comments:
I originally copied this: "as we examined the tiny miracle that somehow emerged from some wayward seed that nestled in garden rubble," to share how much i love this line, but as I continued to read, I could have quoted the entire piece! I love the captivating way you've shared this moment. Thank you!
This is such a lovely description and just captures how that one tiny purple flower is more significant than all the others. Love the last line!
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