What kind of flower would you be?

I got to thinking this morning (I know, I know, dangerous...) as I walked to school.

I'm like a daffodil.

Before you think I've become some kind of hippie, hear me out. I've been under some stress these last few weeks. This morning I saw that Kathy's daffodils are blooming in the front yard and they made me smile. I never used to pay much attention to daffodils, until I spent the semester in London and saw that grand old city turn yellow with them in March and April.

So why am I a daffodil?

Daffodils are amazing little flowers. These hearty little souls bloom at a time when most flowers are still cowering in the ground. There is very little sunshine, and the days and nights are bitterly cold, but daffodils are determined to bloom. You see them, resolutely shooting out of the ground; then a little yellow head appears. Before you know it, the daffodil's happy little face is smiling at you.

Most people, when asked, would tell you that roses and lilies are the beautiful flowers. These are the romantic flowers of love and romance, the flowers you give someone dear to you. People do not necessarily associate the sturdy little daffodil with such fanciful things.

And yet, when you ask them, people always agree that daffodils are lovely little flowers. They agree that daffodils are cheery and happy and able to bloom in the most difficult of circumstances. Perhaps there is no one who is immune to the charm of a bed of daffodils, so bright and optimistic, on a bleak winter's day.

Gardeners never worry about daffodils. They gently plant a bulb in the fall and leave it to rest in the winter. Even as the snow falls, and the ice freezes everything else in the garden, the daffodil is safe. And it tries to improve itself--each year, one bulb will produce more and more sunny little flowers.

They're not perfect, however. Daffodils have an alarming tendency to steal the show from everyone else in the garden. If left unchecked, they will overpower other flowers, taking up the space and sunshine the others need to grow. Every once in a while, someone needs to remind the daffodil that it is not the only flower in the garden; there are others who need time to bloom.

The daffodil is one of the unsung flowers, but it doesn't seem to mind. It just plugs along, blooming each year and offering itself to the world the best it can.

Seeing the daffodils in Kathy's garden made me smile this morning...and reminded me why I came to England. I can do this. I'm going to be just fine.