Sunday, February 13, 2011



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 - not enough rain, or 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 overacted 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 mid-air 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 in 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, he'd been 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 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.

When asked, "Why do you like to be in

the mountains so much? " My answer is,
"I See God's Glory There And
Want To Be Reminded Of It."

~Author Unknown~


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