Beautiful Friendship Flower

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 3, 2001

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn – too little rain, too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise,
“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
That’s why I picked it; here – it’s for you.”

The weed before me was dying or dead,
Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it midair without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see; he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, … blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

By Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey
From: A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul<br />
Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen, © 1998
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10 comments
  1. Eileen O'Connor said:

    This is beautiful!

    Like

  2. Thank you so much for stopping by at my blog and for liking one of my posts ”Stop re-reading the last chapter”. May the Lord richly bless you more abundantly in the name of Jesus Christ. I do hope that your visit was great and I look forward to more of it while I frequent yours as well.

    Like

  3. "Working for Christ" said:

    “The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.” Thanks for the reminder, Kenny T! 🙂 Dave

    Like

    • It’s so easy to get caught up in the “Adult World”…… It takes a precious little kid to help us re-boot and get our operating system back in order!!!!!!

      I hope all is well with you and your family,

      Take Care and God Bless 🙂 Kenny T

      Like

  4. A lovely poem to use with devotions at the two retirement homes I visit each week. In this case, “Out of the mouth of babes Thou hast ordained strength. . .” Psalm 8:2

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    • I love that verse!!!!!! Thanks for sharing and also, thanks for taking the MS&D stories to the retirement homes!!!! I hope they enjoy them as much as I enjoy finding them!!

      By the way, thanks for the encouragement you gave me a couple of months ago when I was considering retirement from blogging!!!

      Take Care and God Bless 🙂 Kenny T

      Like

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