My children are incurable flower pickers. Every one of them went through a stage where they didn’t distinguish between buds and open flowers. Last year this blonde girl totally denuded my peony bush before any of the “little balls” got a chance to open. This spring she brought me 8 precious tulip buds, still green and tightly shut, and every hyacinth as it began to show a tinge of color in its bells. I find that I simply cannot scold about these offerings handed to me from grubby little fists. We just put them into vases or bowls and hope they reach a little bit of their potential. She is learning to tell the difference between baby flowers and the full blown ones that are ready to pick. Thankfully, we have a long row of fragrant grape hyacinths that are open to picking anytime. The girls love them, and I love to watch them pick them. 🙂
Every year it catches me right smack between the eyes… how glorious spring is! I don’t forget during the winter, but I don’t actually experience it until it is here, and suddenly I feel so alive and full of energy and ideas. It feels like a different existence from February.
I think maybe heaven will be a bit like that… So much more glorious than we can anticipate, even though faith in the coming resurrection and final redemption of the body is what takes us through the February of life.