NO SUNNY DAY FOR MAMA?

As I often do, whenever I need to think and explore ideas, I walk. Forests, meadows, mountains…wherever. And it was for just this reason that the other day I found myself wandering around a dandelion-filled meadow trying to figure out what I would write about for this newsletter. The answer was right in front of me, or rather it was under my feet! I looked at the bright yellow sun-like flowers and thought of a story I had written in April of 2002 for Story Friends, a magazine for kids. Why not share that story for this May’s The Spruce Tree Journal?

But it is more than a story in itself. Soon after publishing this piece, my daughter Bridget asked to read this to her class (although she hadn’t learned how to read yet). We made a book with hand-made marble-swirled cardboard covers. I put in the words and she drew the pictures. Then I read the story to the whole elementary school while she showed her artwork on the overhead projector.

That is where a blank mind in a dandelion meadow brought me to a couple days ago. Enjoy the story below.

Consider planting more dandelions in your life, too.

“Pick all the weeds you want, Chalina,” the landlord said while wiping the sweat from his face. “It will just be less that I have to dig up.”

“These aren’t weeds, they’re flowers,” Chalina said. She held up a clump of thin red flowers with tall stems so Mr. McDuffy could see them better. “I picked these for Mama.”

Mr. McDuffy leaned on his shovel. “Those are called wild columbine. Such a straggly looking weed, don’t you think?”

“I think they look like birds flying,” Chalina said as she jiggled the flowers close to her face. “Mama never sees birds anymore. She works at night in the factory now.”

Mr. McDuffy picked the few remaining columbine along the edge of his lawn near the fence. He handed them to Chalina.

“Are you planting more of these?” Chalina asked.

Mr. McDuffy made a face like he just swallowed a lemon. “No!” he said quickly. I’m trying to get rid of those weeds so I can plant more grass.”

“Where will I be able to pick flowers for Mama?” Chalina asked. “I’m not allowed to go to the park by myself. And Mama sleeps during the day.”

“I don’t know,” Mr. McDuffy said. His eyes softened and his face grew limp. “Don’t you want a nice lawn to play in?”

Chalina shrugged her shoulders. Then she slowly walked to her apartment where her mother was sleeping.

On Tuesday, the next day, the bus dropped Chalina off as usual right in front of her apartment. She saw Mr. McDuffy with his shovel working next to some small purple and white flowers.

“Wait!” Chalina yelled as she raced over to him. “I want to pick those flowers for Mama.”

Mr. McDuffy stopped digging while he watched Chalina pluck a fistful of the short flowers. “I didn’t even notice those,” Mr. McDuffy said, excitement glittering in his eyes. “They’re violets. I haven’t seen those in years.”

Chalina closed her eyes and held the violets lightly against her face. “These feel like butterfly wings fluttering against my cheeks. Do you want to try?”

Mr. McDuffy gently rubbed a few violets against his cheeks. “Huh, huh, huh,” he chuckled. “You’re right, Chalina. These do feel like butterfly wings.” Then he gave her his violets. “You found these just in time. I was about ready to dig up this last section.”

“Can’t you keep a few flowers here?” Chalina asked. “I wish I could pick these every day to remind Mama of butterflies.”

“I’m sorry, Chalina,” Mr. McDuffy said as his ruddy cheeks turned pale.  “I was hoping you’d like the grass better.”

On Wednesday, when Chalina got off the school bus, Mr. McDuffy was planting grass near the fence.

“Chalina,” Mr. McDuffy called to her. “Do you want to help?”

“Could we plant some of those pretty yellow flowers, instead?” she asked. “The ones that turn all white after a few days? I saw some as my bus drove by the park today.”

“Those are dandelions,” Mr. McDuffy said.

“When they are yellow, they look like the sun,” Chalina said. “After they turn white, they look like big puffy clouds.  I give them to Mama to remind her of spring.”

“Those are awful weeds,” Mr. McDuffy told her. “I DON’T want those weeds in my yard, especially after they turn white with seeds!”

Chalina’s eyes clouded up with tears which started to sprinkle down her cheeks. “Mama misses the springtime so much.”

Mr. McDuffy stopped spreading his grass seed. His whole body sort of drooped like a flower does when it needs a drink of water.

On Thursday Chalina noticed a bucket of dandelions in the yard before she got off the school bus. The big white fluffy flowers with hundreds of seeds seemed to float above the bucket. Oh no! Chalina thought. Mr. McDuffy probably thinks I put them there.

Mr. McDuffy came out of the house as the school bus slowed to a stop. “Chalina,” he called as she stepped off the bus. “We’ve got something to discuss.”

Chalina tried to say those were not her dandelions, but the words were buried too deep in her throat to come out.

Mr. McDuffy picked up the bucket and handed a dandelion to Chalina. “A long time ago,” he said, “I liked feeding the birds and catching butterflies and playing outside on sunny days.” Then he stood up tall and straight. “I forgot about those things until you reminded me with your flowers.” Then he asked, “Would you like to plant a spring day?”

Chalina’s smile was warm and sunny. “Mama will be so happy!”

They each held a puffy white dandelion up to their mouths then took a deep breath.

“Ready?” Mr. McDuffy asked. “One. Two. Three. BLOW!”