It seems like just yesterday that my little boy would bring me beautiful bouquets of wild flowers in his tightly clenched fist. They would often be crushed by the little fingers and half dead by the time they made it to the house, but I never tired of these wonderful gifts of love and he would proudly watch as I carefully put them in a vase of water, displaying them in a place of prominence for everyone to see.
A few years have passed and my little boy is not so little anymore. At over six feet tall, David now towers over me; but he still surprises me every now and then with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. This Sunday he presented me with a package wrapped in florist’s paper and as he watched, I opened it. Inside the wrapping I found twelve beautifully coloured tulips.
Beautiful yes, but it was sadly obvious that they were nearly dead.
When I placed them in the jug of water, they drooped downwards, lifeless and limp, nearly touching the counter. I chuckled to myself thinking that some things just don’t change.
“I kind of forgot them in the car last night,” he said.
I smiled and told him that they were beautiful and indeed they were, despite the drooping.
It is surprising though what a bit of substance can do, because a few hours later when I went to set the table for dinner, waiting for me were my flowers, no longer droopy and lifeless but beautifully standing tall stretching towards the light.
My tulips will only last for the week but I smile each time I see them, remembering the little boy that would bring his “Mumsey” flowers and the handsome young man who still thinks to bring them to brighten his mother’s day.
Beautiful pics and post!