A lush field of bright red poppies, and in the midst of it all a little clearing. In the middle of that clearing, a white flower.
The poppies stayed away from the white flower from the moment it began to emerge from the bud. It was different and new and unlike them. They moved away from it, giving it wide berth. They mustn't get too close.
'What's wrong with it?' Whispers in the surrounding crowd. "Stay away from it!" They fearfully shout.
One day, MEN came to the meadow with machines. They all wore matching hats. Except one of them. His hat was different. He walked carefully through the meadow, taking care not to disturb the poppies.
When he came upon the white flower, his eyes grew large. "Oh, now here's something you don't see every day!" He took out his camera and captured many images of the white flower. He made notes on an official looking form.
After that, the MEN and their machines went away. Signs went up around the meadow. The poppies didn't know this but that white flower, one of a very rare strain of poppy, saved all of them from death and destruction.
4 comments:
So often the way of the world, rarity is seen as danger when it is truly a blessing. Very beautiful. Aren't you that white flower?
I don't think I'm the white flower. I meant it as an allegory about how different is not only beautiful, but it can also save your life. I just saw the flower as an endangered species.
I think you are the white flower.
I think you are one of the sweetest, most thoughtful people ever and I'm so, so happy we are back in touch. Thank you for believing in my writing and believing in me.
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