Here is a story, created this moment, just for you. It happens to be about a little girl. She could have been anyone’s child. She could have been you.
A BOUQUET OF LOVE
One bright sunny day, this little girl was picking wild flowers in a meadow. Feeling like she was the warmth of the sun, she gathered her bouquet of purple and gold brightness and ran to her father, offering him this bundle of spontaneous love. Her father saw only miserable weeds that set off his miserable hay fever. He shouted at her to get them out of the house, asking how could she be such a stupid little girl, and where was her consideration?
The little girl did not know what consideration was, so she had no idea where hers could be, and she was afraid to ask. She was sure that if she had any, she would not be stupid. She ran outside, no longer feeling like she was the warm yellow sun. Her brightness faded, she sat under a tree with her flowers, consoling them, assuring them they were in no way stupid, or else how could they be so beautiful? Then she planted each one in the earth again, telling them she was sorry she had taken them from their homes, and promised never to do so again.
The little girl pondered this event as the years passed and somewhere in the angels’ singing, since angels are always singing to little girls and big girls and people of all ages, she heard a song of wisdom: You are not the doer. The fruits of your actions belong not to you, but to God. And the little girl, who by now lived in a bigger body, hugged that song to her, and it comforted her way back to the time when her father had shouted at her and into the future when her own and other people's songs would be shouts.
As the years passed, she learned from these shouts. Sometimes people shouted loudly, sometimes silently. Deep within the angels’ whispers, she discovered that all shouts came from fear and ignorance. People were afraid to feel, so they shouted. People were afraid to tell the truth, so they shouted. People were afraid to love and be loved, so they shouted. People were afraid, so they hid behind shouts that were loud and shouts that were silent, wearing the disguises that pass for love, life, and intimacy.
Time passed, as time has a way of doing, teaching what it teaches to those able to listen with their hearts. Time taught her to sing gentle songs, giving them away like candy. Once they were gone from her, she never looked back, knowing that gifts with strings attached were no gifts at all.
One day, when the little girl lived in a body with skin that showed the passage of many lessons learned, she found she had become the bouquet of flowers. And people came from everywhere to catch the scent of her love.
The angels will leave you to gather your own bouquet from this story, the way the little girl did. The joy of stories comes from listening with your heart. In this way, the story awakens the truth that lives inside you and that truth becomes your own.
