I came home from class the other night to a gift. On the kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in a damp paper towel, were two vibrant yellow dandelions, collected for me by the kids during their evening walk with Daddy.
Today as I picked them up from school, my daughter glowed as she pulled another wilted dandelion from her cubby. Holding it up with pride, she practically exploded as she told me, “Look, Mommy! I picked it for you on the playground today and I putted it in some water but it broke. Do you love it?” I, of course, told her I did.
The gifts of dandelions from my kids are countless. On walks. As we get in the car. At the park. On the soccer field. There is no shortage of dandelions this season.
To most people, dandelions are just weeds. A nuisance.
But to me, they are a precious gift from my children. Beautiful. Selfless.
My face didn’t light up when one of my kids picked one just for me.
I told them it was just a weed.
I compared it to other, more beautiful, flowers.
Years from now, my son and daughter might not remember what kind of flowers they picked for me. But they will surely remember how I received their gifts with open arms, a smile, and a thank you. They will remember that I saw their generosity, their love, and the effort they put into doing something special for their Mommy. And maybe, if I’m lucky, they will always be able to look at dandelions and see a thing of beauty.
I’m excited to join other writers every Tuesday (and daily during the month of March) in 2017 to participate in the Slice of Life writing challenge through Two Writing Teachers. Read all about how you can Write. Share. Give. on their website here.