Tag Archives: dandelions

The Shriveled Dandelion

 

Part 1

©Jeanne E Webster

“Mommy, look at what I got for you!” the energetic child exclaimed as she held out a mangled dandelion.

Limply folding laundry, the weary mother replied, “Oh, that’s nice, Nancy; what a pretty flower! Now go back outside and play with your brother.”

“Don’t forget to put it in water, Mommy!” Nancy shouted as she scampered back outside. Only five years old, she already babysat Johnny, her two-year-old brother.

“Ok, Nan,” Mommy half-heartedly promised, her mind drifting back to the household chores awaiting her. The prized dandelion silently dropped to the floor and shriveled into a skinny speck. Pensively she heard laughter coming from the back yard, and a hint of a smile appeared on her face. “At least the kids are happy and well,” she mused. With a hundred things to do, she poured another cup of coffee and continued her mundane activity.

Cries from Johnny a while later broke into Mrs. Armstrong’s labors. Pushing her head out of the upstairs bedroom window, she called out, “Nan, what’s wrong with Johnny?”

No answer. His cries became more desperate… something is wrong, terribly wrong.

Throwing the freshly washed linens on the bed, she hurried to the stairs, hollering again, “Nancy! What’s the matter with Johnny?!”

Again….no answer.  A full panic raging now, Mrs. Armstrong took the stairs two at a time, quickly reaching the doorway to the backyard.  Her eyes searched frantically for her children.

Johnny’s voice was at its highest pitch as she bent down and removed him from his swing seat. Comforting him with hugs, she quickly pivoted around in a frenzied search for her daughter.  Nancy’s gone! The gate to the fenced yard was closed and there was no sign of her on the premises.

Scanning the back yard as she rushed into the house, she dialed 911 to report her missing daughter. As she waited for the arrival of the police, her last conversation with Nancy played over and over in her head. Her heart broke as she realized she hadn’t really listened to her daughter… the treasured dandelion lay shriveled up on the kitchen floor. She had never put it into water.

Bracing herself for the ordeal facing her, she made a vow to tell Nancy when the police found her that she was sorry for breaking her promise. “Next time I’ll listen, Nan. Promise.”

[Written months ago--before little Breeann]

Dandelions, Drunks, and Dirt

Parque de diversiones

Image by N i c o_ via Flickr

 

THRU THE EYES OF CHILDREN

When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard. My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.

When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away. My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.

When I hear music I love, I know I can’t carry a tune and don’t have rhythm so I sit self-consciously and listen. My kids feel the beat and move to it.

They sing out the words. It they don’t know them, they make up their own.

When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk. My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it, until they fall to the ground laughing.

When I pray, I say thee and thou and grant me this, give me that. My kids say, “Hi God! Thanks for the toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don’t want to go to heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy.”

When I see a puddle I step around it. I see muddy shoes and clothes and dirty carpets. My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross and worms to play with.

I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from? —-No wonder God loves the little children!

~author unknown

Dandelion Music

Taraxacum, family Asteraceae.

Image via Wikipedia

THRU THE EYES OF CHILDREN

When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard.  My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.

When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away.  My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.

When I hear music I love, I know I can’t carry a tune and don’t have rhythm so I sit self-consciously and listen.  My kids feel the beat and move to it.  They sing out the words.  It they don’t know them, they make up their own.

When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it.  I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk.  My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it, until they fall to the ground laughing.

When I pray, I say thee and thou and grant me this, give me that.  My kids say, “Hi God!  Thanks for the toys and my friends.  Please keep the bad dreams away tonight.  Sorry, I don’t want to go to heaven yet.  I would miss my Mommy and Daddy.”

When I see a puddle I step around it.  I see muddy shoes and clothes and dirty carpets.  My kids sit in it.  They see dams to build, rivers to cross and worms to play with.

I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from?  No wonder God loves the little children!

~author unknown