by Amy Cravey, Texas
They are flag bearers of spring! Blazen yellow they wave and usher in all things fresh and new. A respite from the dreary brown that blankets the soil shoots the bonnet wearing flower. Oh Daffodil, even your name brings a slight smile to my face!
Except. . . Where are you? You really should be here by now. My neighbor’s yard is full of bright yellow, waving flowers. Where are my flag bearers of spring? My neighbor’s spring has sprung in her garden. What’s wrong with my garden? Oh Daffodil, did I not plant you at just the right time? Did I not plant you deep enough or far enough from the other plants? Did I buy bad bulbs and my digging will all be in vain? Oh, look! Yes, more Daffodils in that other neighbor’s yard. Yes, I see you waving at me, Daffodil. No, I don’t want to wave back or smile at you! I want to wave at my own yellow flowers in my own garden! (Foot stomping follows) But they must not like me. Things like this always happen to me, you know. Not even my Daffodils like me. Life is tough here in my garden.
Uh oh! What was that? An intruder! Did you see that thief run through my dreary, brown soil? He was quick, but I know he stole something from me. I’m sure of it! I can’t even see which direction he went! First my Daffodils won’t grow and now a robbery. Maybe that thief actually stole my Daffodils. Of course! I should expect that. I might as well go inside and wait until winter comes again. (And the clock ticks, ticks, ticks)
I didn’t realize I’d get so hungry waiting for winter to arrive. I was sure hoping to not emerge until the cold winds could blow my troubles far away. Poor me. Spring has dealt me a cruel blow, but I suppose I can venture out to receive some sustenance for my body. I still don’t understand, Oh Daffodil, why you didn’t come to my garden. I was so looking forward to your entrance this spring.
Oh look! Something is moving in the brown soil. It seems to be, well, waving at me. Wait, what? It’s yellow and it’s waving. It’s yellow and it’s waving and there are lots of them! In MY garden! Oh Daffodil, you didn’t forget me. You weren’t stolen by that thief! You aren’t mad. I didn’t do something wrong. You’re here! The neighbor’s yellow flowers must be so glad to have you across the street to wave at all day. Where are the neighbor’s flowers? Oh, their time has come and gone. I see. Your time, Oh Daffodil, in my garden is now. I am so sorry I doubted you would come, Oh Daffodil. You came at just the right time I needed you. My garden is different than my neighbor’s, that’s for sure. If I hadn’t moped around I could have enjoyed his Daffodils and then mine. I was too busy comparing. But now I understand; you had an appointment to sprout from that barren soil in my garden. Forgive me for expecting you sooner. Well, I wonder what that thief had stolen from my garden if he didn’t steal you, Oh Daffodil. What? No. That can’t be. I would have noticed. Maybe I was too busy moping to notice? Well, you don’t hold back any punches do you, Oh Daffodil? I suppose you might be correct. I will have to be on guard from now on.
The robber named Comparison IS the thief of joy.