A secret garden

   A few surprises indeed. Some not shocked at and
others very much so.

   Soft yellow flowers grouped together on a stem.
Petals that brighten my day.

    Yes a few surprises indeed. No not I even ask
who, how I just thank as the tears of joy fall down
my freckled pale face.

     Ah the quizzical face my mother gives seeing
the twinkle in her daughter's blue eyes.

     Asking of what is gift. Handing to her the stem
with tiny delicate yellow blooms. She presses them
close to nose only to receive a tickle from the aroma.

    Then I proceed to tell her that it was a simple but
elegant note for me to have happiness. A thought
of someone thinking of me.

     Now I laugh as her nose keeps twitching. Oh a
smile that cannot be wiped from face.

     My mother then says to me, But Mary they are
only weeds."

      Oh if she only understood her daughter. How
the smallest flower speaks great volumes. Oh I will
not try to explain to her. In only this I respond,"But
yes mother I was thought of today. A gracious
memory is made and I intend to treasure it because
for the first time in seventeen years I have received
a flower without buying them for myself."

        Then a sudden silence is upon us until arriving
home. I close eyes thinking of how to repay this
grand treasure. Only way is to thank Jehovah for
allowing someone to hear me, listen to me.

        A surprise indeed. Treasuring my simple gift,
I allow it to dry so I may press it upon pages of
my favorite childhood novel.

       My secret garden.