Saturday, October 01, 2005

Wildflower

A little girl waded through a field of gold, almost a skip in her step, the hem of her green cotton frock grazing the tips of the open petals. Stopping only to talk to the most beautiful marigold of all, she asked, "Can I take you home with me?"

A haughty reply, "Why, no. I shall stay here. I am the queen of the wildflowers."

Her eyes were wide open as she walked away, the skip dying down just a little. She knew her dolls were waiting, four to a table, for her to come home for their tea party. And because Spring was here, they could open the nursery windows and draw the curtains back; the dancing sunbeams would come in for a cup of tea too.

Why should a haughty wildflower make a little girl smile any less?


Laid bare at 1:29 pm
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