The following is a story forwarded to me by one of my friends. I stand indebted and owe a pious duty to share, as such, with all I love and regard faithfully. The sender says, “Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over”. I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call. Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house, I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.”
Putting the story ahead, she mentions, “Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!... “But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks”, Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this”…
After about 20 minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign with an arrow that read, ‘Daffodil Garden’. We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.”
Going a few steps more what she found, she narrates, “It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons ad swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-coloured variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.” She states to have asked her daughter Carolyn, “Who did this?” “Just one Woman”, She answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home, pointing to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory.” They walked up to the house.
On the patio, they saw a poster. ‘Answers to Questions I Know You Are Asking’, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. ’50,000 bulbs’, it read. The second answer was, ‘One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one bran’. The third answer was, ‘Began in 1958’. For her, that moment was a life-changing experience. She thought of that woman whom she had never met, who, more than 40 years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, that unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One step at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. “It makes me sad in a way”, she admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal 35 or 40 years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”
Her daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow”, she said. She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. Whatever we had thought yesterday and could not do, we can rethink and start today – it is never too late.
Be Happy – Start It Today, It Is Never late.
Putting the story ahead, she mentions, “Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!... “But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks”, Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this”…
After about 20 minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign with an arrow that read, ‘Daffodil Garden’. We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.”
Going a few steps more what she found, she narrates, “It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons ad swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-coloured variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.” She states to have asked her daughter Carolyn, “Who did this?” “Just one Woman”, She answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home, pointing to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory.” They walked up to the house.
On the patio, they saw a poster. ‘Answers to Questions I Know You Are Asking’, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. ’50,000 bulbs’, it read. The second answer was, ‘One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one bran’. The third answer was, ‘Began in 1958’. For her, that moment was a life-changing experience. She thought of that woman whom she had never met, who, more than 40 years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, that unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One step at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. “It makes me sad in a way”, she admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal 35 or 40 years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”
Her daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow”, she said. She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. Whatever we had thought yesterday and could not do, we can rethink and start today – it is never too late.
Be Happy – Start It Today, It Is Never late.
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