The Zinnia

The early morning sun shone brilliantly across the backyard of our farmhouse.

Drops of dew danced on each flower petal in the garden.

Mother had been there for quite some time. 

She carefully attended to the living masterpiece she had planted month’s earlier.

She looked up from her work for just a moment.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” she said.

I smiled through the mop of hair that was hanging down in front of my eyes.

At five years old my frame was insignificant under the wide -open September sky.

“We need to go inside and get you ready for school,” Mother said. Then she turned handed me a small bouquet of zinnias. Each flower was different in color and yet vibrant.

“I thought that you might like to take these to your teacher today.”

I stared in wonder at such a wonderful gift to present to my teacher.

My mother smiled back and gently led me to the house.

A memory forever etched into my heart…

I thought of how very much like those flowers she was. A zinnia; strong in the toughest of hot weather days and yet gentle, full of life. Long lasting, ever constant and beautiful.

…Thank you Mom, I love you.