A home for the jonquils
Every time I touch upon this wonderfully beautiful and truly inspiring story, I’m amazed at how much a simple story can evoke so much emotion and spur me to acts of random kindness. I invite you to read this story with an open mind and be blessed! You may have read the story many times over in the past but it still has the power to touch and change lives. The message of the story is as relevant today as it was when first written. At the heart of the story is the message that a random act of kindness, gesture; however unlikely, can transform another life. The story was originally published in a Letter to the Editor of the Long Island Star-Journal and it was written by Maude Jennings Shaw. May God touch you as you read through it and bless you to be a channel of blessings to others…
It was a cold night. I was mentally and physically tired and felt quite depressed. Customers in the store where I work had been cross and bothersome; tempers had been sharp all day; nothing had gone right. I was glad it was six o’clock and I could go home and relax.
I stopped at the corner store for some groceries, and even the clerk felt the mood of the day. Grumpily he said, ‘Hurry up, lady, I want to go home, too.’ As I was leaving the store, I noticed a single bunch of jonquils in a bucket of water; they were huddled together as though they were lonely and cold. They seemed to say, ‘Please, lady, take us home.’ They were so beautiful, yet so misplaced. I snatched them up, paid clerk, and left
As I walked the short distance to my home, my step was lighter and my previously dampened spirit rose.
Upon entering my dark room. I was struck with the golden brilliance of the flowers. As I tenderly placed them in a vase, I seemed to hear them say, ‘But this isn’t our home.’
I couldn’t explain the feeling, but I had a strong impulse to take the flowers to m
y shut-in neighbor across the hall. As I entered her room, the shut-in stared for a moment, then said, ‘How did you know? All day in
my memories I’ve been walking among the jonquils in the garden I had years ago.’
As I placed the flowers into her trembling hands, I had the distinct impression that their heads no
dded in approval, and, I seemed to hear their golden bells ringing out their thanks. Feeling warm and comfortable inside me, I forgot all the upsets of the day and again felt in tune with God.
Do flowers talk? Yes, they do, I heard them.