The Bouquet

I met my first grandson on the day he was born. It is a memory that is forever etched in my heart.

My son-in-law handed me that little, white bundle of joy with a round, pink face and a tiny, blue knit cap in the middle of it. I removed that cap and saw a head covered with brown, fluffy stuff that looked more like goose down than hair. While in my arms, he opened his big, blue eyes and that was all it took. We were connected for life.

What they say about grandchildren is definitely true. They are the reward for all the years their parents were teenagers. Grandchildren make all the gray hairs worth it.

Three years later, my tiny bundle of joy was running, talking, laughing, and screaming as he discovered the world around him. His face lit up at the sight of a butterfly flittering from flower to flower. He gazed in wonder at a red tomato in the garden that was green when he last saw it.

One day, we were walking around the yard and admiring the blooming spring flowers. My grandson ran to a cluster of yellow ‘flowers’ and began to pick dandelions. I went back to the deck to watch. When he was finished, he ran back to the deck and, with a huge grin lighting up his big, blue eyes, handed me his bouquet of yellow, flowery weeds.

“What are these for?” I asked.
“They’re for you, Grandma. God made them pretty because he loves us and I picked them for you because you are the best Grandma in the world and I love you.”

These are the precious moments that make life meaningful. I took the already-wilting weeds from his grubby little hands, gathered him in my arms, and said, “This is the most beautiful bouquet of flowers any one has ever given me.”

And it was the truth. Children are precious and special gifts from their pure hearts are priceless.


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