Fanciful

Just to delight us

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I found these flowers growing from a hole in the sidewalk. But aren’t they artistically arranged? 😀

On Tuesday I drove even deeper downtown for a meeting. I work a few minutes’ drive outside of the city center, now. But, anyway, I didn’t mind the jaunt.

It was sunny. And summer. And I had my windows down and everything smelled and seemed of sunshine and warmth and positivity.

And then! Walking into a building! There was a delivery man holding a plastic-wrapped pot; and, in the pot, was an orchid. The man was wearing the uniform of a delivery man-clean and polished but nondescript.

But! The orchid blossoms! What wonder! Brilliant deep-pinks, perky and proud, blasting vibrancy into a block of tan, poured concrete. I could barely take my eyes off of them. The delivery man walked with with the air of someone doing a job, but the flowers shouted regality and mystery and exoticism.

And I thought to myself, “How wonderful! Flowers! Being delivered!”

And I wondered all about them. Who were they from? Who are they for? It must be because someone loves someone else…of course it is! Isn’t that something wonderful and miraculous and good?

I could not stop smiling.

Maybe it is from a man to a woman who he loves. Isn’t that a miracle?

Maybe they are from one friend to another. Isn’t that a gift?

Maybe it’s a birthday or a get well or…any number of celebrations.

Once, when I visited Father Ryan in Denver, we were talking about dinosaurs, and he said, “I think that maybe God made dinosaurs just to delight children.”

Why, then, do you think that God made flowers? Maybe for the same reason? For bees and butterflies could still find flowers, even if they were not a multitude of brilliant shapes and colors and heights.

I drove to a parking spot. Parked.

I stared at a garden, planted intentionally near the middle of the city, for folks to walk through and admire and unwind. It was an act of love to plant these too, wasn’t it? It was a moment of generosity that inspired that garden, and a labor of love to care for it every day.

I thought about this as I looked for change, for the meter.

Then, across the street, I saw a man who once bought me flowers. We had been working in the same building at the time and, once when he was not in, I collected his mail during an important delivery. He had thanked me with an unexpected (and very kind) bouquet of white daisies that lasted for a good while.

And I smiled, too. Because then I had the memory of being gifted with love and creation and…flowers.

So then I put my money in the meter and went to my meeting.

The end.

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