The Fatal Futility of Flowers

She wanted to give a gift to her mother. But not something her father bought, she wanted to give her something she got on her own.

The girl loved flowers; so, she waddled to the garden. She liked the pink ones and the white ones. With her chubby little hands, she reached out and ripped them from the ground. How beautiful they were! She ran into the house, found some string, and tied the flowers together.

Proudly, she presented them to her mother. Her mother smiled and squeezed the little girl. How happy she was!

But her happiness soon turned to despair. The flowers were wilting. They looked sad; they didn’t smell good. In her short life, the girl had seen these flowers grow and thrive. Why were they now fading?

The child wept for her flowers. She had murdered them. Nothing could console her.

Eventually, her father had to throw the rotting bouquet away. The girl kicked and screamed; she wouldn’t let him destroy her gift. But to no avail, they were placed in the trash.

For days, the girl sat alone. Her desperate parents tried everything, but nothing worked.

Hoping for a miracle, they handed her another bouquet of pink and white flowers tied together with a string.

The little girl sprang up joyfully. She grabbed them greedily. But they were strange. They didn’t smell like flowers or feel like flowers. She was disappointed, but to appease her parents she pretended to like them.

They didn’t die, but they never made her feel as the flowers in the garden had made her feel.

She still has those plastic flowers; and she still mourns her real ones.