The Most Beautiful Flower
 
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read,
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree;
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
             
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play;
He stood right before me with his head tilted down,
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
             
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With it's petals all warn down-not enough rain, or to little light;
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a smile and then shifted away.
            
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side,
And placed the flower to his nose and declared;
with overacted surprise,
"It's smells pretty and it's beautiful too.
That's why I picked it; here it's for you!"
             
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red;
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave,
So I reached for the flower and replied, "Just what I need."
             
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan;
It was then that I noticed for the very first time,
That the weed-toting boy could not see, he was blind.
             
I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun,
As I thanked him for picking the very best one;
"You're welcome" he smiled and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he's had on my day.
             
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see,
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree;
How did he know about my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
             
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see,
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me;
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, & appreciate...
every second that's mine.
             
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose;
And I smiled as I watched that young boy,
another weed in his hand...
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
 
~Author Unknown~
 
Drop a pebble in the water,
just a splash, and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples,
circling on and on and on.
 
Spreading, spreading from the center,
flowing on out to the sea;
And there is no way of telling,
where the end is going to be.
      
Drop a pebble in the water,
in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing,
and there's ripples circling yet.
 
And those little waves a-flowing,
to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river,
just by dropping in a stone.
      
Drop an unkind word, or careless,
in a minute it is gone; 
But there's half-a-hundred ripples,   
circling on and on and on.
     
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading, 
from the center as they go; 
And there is no way to stop them, 
once you've started them to flow.      
      
Drop an unkind word, or careless,
in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing,
and there's ripples circling yet.
 
And perhaps in some sad heart,
a mighty wave of tears you've stirred;
And disturbed a life was happy,
ere you dropped that unkind word.
     
Drop a word of cheer and kindness,
just a flash and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples,
circling on and on and on.
 
Bearing hope and joy and comfort,
on each splashing, dashing wave;
Till you wouldn't believe the volume,
of the one kind word you gave.
      
Drop a word of cheer and kindness,
in a minute you forget; 
But there's gladness still a-swelling, 
and there's joy circling yet.
     
And you've rolled a wave of comfort,
whose sweet music can be heard; 
Over miles and miles of water, 
just by dropping one kind word. 
 
 ~By James W. Foley~
From Dobran www.dobhran.com
 
 
Have a great day!
Mark 
 
Download ssc here.
 
 
 
 
 
 


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