The day after Thanksgiving, two tired men dropped five large bags of flowers behind my desk at work.
“We didn’t have many takers for these,” they said, departing for their flower shop as quickly as they had come.
The sight of those bags, those colorful blooms, illuminated the eyes of many. “Flowers for the taking,” I called over the radio, and to people passing by.
A retiree held up a wilted bouquet, and ran her fingers over the petals. “They’re on their last leg, just like me. I’ll take these.”
One ninety-something resident said she was the only one around who never received flowers from a loved one. She took two bouquets, smiling thanks-crinkles next to the shines of her eyes.
A few co-workers gathered some flowers for ailing aunts and wives…most took a bouquet for the chance to look at something lovely for a day or two.
One generous act blossomed into many, providing me with a little magic to work in that day. Giving is a great place to find God if He seems far away this Monday.
sherryrossman 