On Flowers

“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.” -Robert Louis Stevenson

Today in the flower shop, a woman came in just to look around. I greeted her with a smile and told her to take her time. She was an average woman, in a T-shirt and jeans, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was with a man who was a little shorter than her–I greeted him as well and told him to ask if he had any questions. Then I went about some business, letting them browse without hovering over their shoulders.

I heard them talking quietly to themselves as they approached our riser full of fresh cut flowers. “These are just amazing!” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands to her face. I walked over to them, smiling, nodding my head in agreement. “Aren’t they wonderful?” I said. And then, as the woman turned to look at me, I saw the genuine love, the care, the kindness behind her eyes. She was completely in awe, carefully bringing the flowers to her nose and smelling them. “Flowers are just glorious,” she said. “So amazing!”
I agreed and talked about how amazing it was to work in the flower shop and see all of the new flowers come in, each one just as beautiful as the next. The woman shook her head in awe, and said, “I mean there’s photography and there’s art, but then there’s flowers. Not man-made…God’s creation.” 

I had never thought about flowers like this before. They are literally God’s artistic gift to us. You can make all the tissue paper, DIY flowers you want, but nothing will ever come close to a real, fresh hydrangea. The other day I put my nose to a big, soft, blush pink rose and inhaled the most beautiful scent I have ever smelled. You know those rose sprays people buy to make their bathroom smell better? Doesn’t even come close. This was a baby’s cheeks, a green field, the warm breeze all gathered together and bottled up into this tender flower.

And here was this woman, seemingly just another store browser, bringing God’s amazing creations to the forefront of my mind, making me grateful for my job, for the opportunity to share the beauty of nature with others. “I miss working in my mother’s garden,” the man said, the first thing I heard him say. I smiled, because he wouldn’t be the first one I would peg as a flower lover. “I used to help her when I was little,” he explained.

And now I was standing in the flower shop, surrounded by color, by light, by the fresh scent, watching as the woman’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she examined each flower–here was something that was bringing us together, the three of us who probably would have never crossed each other’s path otherwise. 

They didn’t end up buying anything, but I could care less. I helped invite someone else into this world in the store, a world where we live and breathe to create, to make people’s day a little brighter. A world where the little kid inside us that likes to make daisy crowns is released and allowed to run free, creating and arranging and making beautiful things.

As the couple walked out, passing the orchids and commenting on their color and how they looked like the monster from Jumanji, I thought about my perspective and outlook on the day. Sure, I’m at work on a Saturday, but experiences like that, that warm my heart and make me experience gratitude? Yep, worth it.