I love flowers…but not on Valentine’s day! Sometime in my mid to late twenties I realized that I don’t particularly enjoy predictable gifts.
I love fresh flowers about, but I would prefer to pick them up while at the market (in my world, that would be the grocery store, cleverly named Marketstreet) or to have them brought home to me when I least expect them.
I also don’t typically prefer prearranged bouquets…a bit too perfect, not relaxed. They can be absolutely lovely, no question, and I understand why so many girls love them. They’re just not my preference. I’m weird that way.
Tonight, my little buddy brought flowers home to me for Valentines.
Oh my! I LOVE them!
He came up with the idea all on his own, painstakingly picked them out, and paid for them with his own money. They were four dollars. He told me.
My middle girl told me how he looked and looked and looked and kept coming back to the same little bunch. He loved them, but had concern that they weren’t “real colors”.
He was right. They’re daisies, three colors. I think the pink, for sure, and maybe the violet, are dyed. I don’t like dyed flowers, but these are absolutely PERFECT. They are.
I was humbled this evening when my heart was so tugged. I was reminded that, if the gift is from the heart of the giver, the gift is perfect. Dyed flowers are precious, when your little boy picks them out…especially on Valentine’s Day.
Every mom understands. Two dozen perfect little rose buds can’t begin to compare with the dandelion carefully plucked from the yard by the chubby hands of a preschooler. Nor can the most expensive of gifts compare with dyed flowers lovingly chosen by a little boy for his mom!
My little buddy gave me a gift from the heart! I love my Valentine flowers. I love my little buddy!