Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Garden (09/07/06)
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TITLE: Dandelion Tears | Previous Challenge Entry
By Judy Burford
09/13/06 -
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Preston’s home in Lithuania was surrounded by small gardens and tiny garden houses, each belonging to a different family. In the evening after work, or on weekends and holidays, the garden owners would come to tend their flowers and vegetables. The flowers had been planted, not only for their beauty, but also as a source of revenue when the women would sell them in the open markets or on the street corners. Preston had strict orders not to pick any of the flowers.
Hopping, jumping, and running beside me, in her exuberance, Preston sometimes fell on her diaper-padded bottom. I joyfully made a game of picking her up, swinging her around, and setting her back on her feet, eliciting peals of laughter.
The flowers were breathtaking. There were huge dahlias, daisies, fragrant sweet peas, gladiolus, and multitudes of other varieties to look at. They ran the gamut of colors, from pure white, to darkest purple.
One can see so much more of God’s creation when eye-to-eye with black-eyed Susans as Preston was. I watched as she extended one cautious pudgy finger, touched a hanging dewdrop jewel, and squealed in glee as is hurtled to earth. Tiny bugs, flitting butterflies, a colored stone on the path, all were objects of wonder and delight. To experience the wonders of a garden through the eyes of a child is a blessing indeed.
While flowers were off-limits to us, windfall fruit was not. No one minded if an apple or two were picked up for eating, and I carefully chose a couple of the small green and red globes. Because no pesticides had been used here, I simply wiped them clean on my shirttail, and they were ready to eat. Soon our fingers and mouths were sticky with the delicious fruit.
All was well until we came to some dandelions growing in an untended corner of the garden. I love dandelions – as long as they aren’t in my garden. Just looking at the golden flowers, with an occasional head gone to seed, carried me back to my childhood.
Preston watched wide-eyed as I plucked a dandelion seed head. The puffball with its soft white filaments, each attached to a tiny seed, was a marvel to look at. When I offered it to Preston to touch, she did so hesitantly.
Well, what does one do with a dandelion gone to seed? One blows on it, of course, sending its seeds, like minute parachutes into the air. I blew.
As the seeds flew off, and the naked center remained in my hand, Preston burst into tears. What was this all about?
Instantly, I saw my simple act through Preston’s eyes. Not only had I picked a forbidden flower, I had destroyed it. In her innocence, she could not discern why one flower could be picked if others could not. All she could see was that we had disobeyed her parents.
I soothed Preston’s tears, and assured her that what I had done was all right, but she was not convinced.
As I reflect on that day in the garden, I am reminded of the scripture where Paul admonished his listeners: “Do not cause anyone to stumble…” I Corinthians 10:32 NIV. I had caused this precious child to stumble. God used tears over a dandelion to show me how careful I need to be in everything I do.
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