THE DAISY

In the countryside, near the main road, there sat an adorable cottage that you've undoubtedly noticed yourself. In front of it, there was a charming little garden adorned with colorful flowers and a vibrant green picket fence. Not far from there, along the edge of the ditch, amidst the lush grass, a petite daisy bloomed. Thanks to the sun, which showered it with warm rays, just like the grand and lavish garden flowers, it opened more and more with each passing hour.

One beautiful morning, fully open, with its delicate white and glossy petals, it resembled a miniature sun surrounded by its radiant beams. Whether people spotted it in the grass and regarded it as an unassuming little flower, it paid no mind. It was content, basking in the sun's warmth and listening to the melodious song of the lark soaring high above.

This little daisy was as joyful as on a festive day, despite it being a regular Monday. While children sat on school benches, studying their lessons, this little flower, perched on its green stem, learned about the beauty of nature and the kindness of God. It felt that everything it silently experienced was perfectly expressed by the cheerful songs of the little lark. It looked upon the happy bird that sang and soared, but it never regretted its inability to do the same.

"I see and hear," it thought, "the sun warms me, and the wind caresses me. Oh, I'd be wrong to complain."

Inside the picket fence, there were numerous stiff and distinguished flowers. The less fragrant they were, the more upright they stood. Peonies swelled up to appear bigger than the roses, though size doesn't define a rose. Tulips shimmered with their vibrant colors and flaunted themselves with pride. They didn't deign to glance at the petite daisy, while the little flower admired them, thinking, "How rich and beautiful they are! Surely the magnificent bird will visit them. Thank goodness, I'll be able to witness this splendid spectacle."

And at that moment, the lark didn't direct its flight towards the peonies and tulips but towards the grass, right next to the humble daisy, who, overwhelmed with joy, was at a loss for words.

The small bird hopped around her, singing, "The grass is so soft! Oh, the lovely little flower with a heart of gold and a silver robe!"

One can hardly imagine the happiness of the petite daisy. The bird kissed her with its beak, sang before her once more, and then soared up into the azure sky. For over a quarter of an hour, the daisy couldn't recover from its excitement. Partly embarrassed but deeply delighted, it observed the other flowers in the garden. They must have understood its joy, given the honor it had received. The tulips stood even straighter than before, their pointed red faces revealing their annoyance. The peonies swelled up even more. What good fortune for the humble daisy that they couldn't speak! They would've said many unpleasant things to her. The little flower noticed and was saddened by their sour disposition.

A little while later, a young girl armed with a large, gleaming knife entered the garden. She approached the tulips and began cutting them one by one.

"What a misfortune!" the petite daisy sighed. "This is terrible; it's the end of them."

As the young girl carried away the tulips, the daisy rejoiced in being a simple little flower in the grass. It appreciated God's kindness and felt grateful. It closed its leaves at the end of the day, drifted off to sleep, and dreamt all night of the radiant sun and the little bird.

The next morning, as the daisy opened its leaves to the air and light once again, it recognized the voice of the bird. But its song was melancholic. The poor lark had good reason to grieve: it had been captured and confined in a cage suspended in an open window. It sang of the joy of freedom, the beauty of lush fields, and its previous flights through the skies.

The petite daisy longed to help but was unsure how. It forgot about the surrounding beauty, the gentle warmth of the sun, and the brilliance of its own leaves in its compassion for the captive bird.