The Dandelion

A little girl bent down to pick a dandelion to give to her mother.

“Oh, don’t pick me,” the dandelion said. “I’m just a weed. To honor your mother, you need to pick a beautiful flower, like a rose.”

“But dandelion,” the little girl said, turning the flower toward her, “you are so easy for my little hands to pluck. Roses are full of thorns and would hurt my small and delicate hands.”

“But flowers are supposed to smell sweet,” said the dandelion, “and I have no smell to speak of.”

The little girl bent down a little lower and smelled the dandelion. It rubbed against her little nose. “I like the way you smell,” she said, smiling. “You may not smell like perfume like roses do, but you smell like sweet grass. I like grass.”

This made the dandelion perk up just a little, but it still wasn’t convinced. “But, I don’t come in all the beautiful colors that roses do. I only come in one color.”

The child smiled even wider. “Yes, you come in bright, happy yellow. It’s the color of sunshine, and it makes me very happy.”

“It does?” The dandelion didn’t know that. “But what about my petals? Rose petals are silky smooth and grand. Mine are tiny and hard to pluck.”

“But I don’t pick you up because I want to pluck off your petals, silly dandelion,” the child said. “I pick you up because I want to present you to someone special as a sweet and simple token of my love.”

“How can I make anyone happy?” asked the dandelion, still unconvinced of its purpose.

“You make me very happy, dandelion,” exclaimed the little girl. “I can find you every time I go for a walk. You are easy to pick, and I can quickly gather a bouquet of your bright yellowness. And did you know you continue to bring joy even after your petals fall off?”

“What do you mean? How could I bring joy without my yellow petals?” asked the dandelion.

“Well, when your petals fall off, you open up into a ball of fluff that brings smiles to people everywhere as they blow softly and make a wish. Then your goodness spreads everywhere! I love blowing fluffy dandelions just as much as I love picking the yellow ones, and so does my mommy and everyone in my family! I think there isn’t anybody in the world who doesn’t love to blow on your fluff and make a secret wish!”

The dandelion brightened just as much on the inside as its little yellow petals shone on the outside. “Thank you, little girl, for helping me see my worth. I may not be a fragrant, majestic rose, but I am more than just a weed. And I am proud to be picked by you!”

“Oh, thank you, dandelion, for your willingness to bring a smile to my and my mommy’s face! I know she will love you!”

The little girl gently plucked up the dandelion, sniffed it one more time as a thank you, and held it out, running towards her mother, a huge smile on her face. “Look what I got for you, Mommy! A happy yellow dandelion flower!”

The little girl’s mother smiled and got a little teary eyed, as she always did when her precious child presented her with a simple gift of love. She scooped up her daughter, lovingly took the dandelion from her little hands, and said, “Thank you, my love. You are such a good, sweet girl. Thank you for thinking of me. I feel so special.”

The mother put the dandelion carefully behind her ear. Its yellow brightness made her a little more beautiful – at least her daughter thought so. They then walked hand in hand down the road back to their home, both feeling a little closer to one another.

And all because of a dandelion.

*******************************************************************

I got the idea to write this little story yesterday. I thought about how my children have given me countless dandelions over the years as a way to show me they love me.

I always have a choice to make – roll my eyes at the fact the dandelion is in fact a weed, or see what my children see – a beautiful flower, perhaps just mistaken for a weed.

If any of us ever feel like a dandelion rather than a rose when it comes to our worth and splendor, I hope you will take my little story to heart and see yourself from a child’s eyes, for their eyes are unbiased and pure. Their eyes mirror God’s eyes.