57. "Who decided that dandelions are weeds?"

Day 57. "Who decided that dandelions are weeds?"

     It was another nice day out (not much sun, slightly cool breeze), so Patty and I decided to take the kids for a long walk. That's my favorite way to exercise. Taking an hour walk with my sister and our kids. However, for whatever reason, we were both feeling somewhat weak today, so we took it slow. We walked for around an hour, but we just kind of strolled. But I'm glad we did, because it gave me the chance to witness this:

     We were walking along, and all the sudden, Patty stopped. She said, "a perfect one," as she bent down to pick up a dandelion in its puffy stage. When all the yellow has disappeared, and all that is left is a big white ball of fluff. It was quite perfect. Tall, straight stem. And a beautiful orb of cottony white. She examined it, and handed it to Casey who, I'm sure, blew it into the wind.

     Patty has said many times before, "who decided that dandelions are weeds?" She loves them. And when I really stop and think about it...they are very, pretty little flowers. And she has a point. Who did decide that they are weeds? If they were more rare, would they be considered flowers instead of a pesky problem that needs to be eliminated from all perfectly landscaped lawns?

     I'm with Patty. They're pretty. They're yellow, then a puff ball of white. You can pick them without anyone getting the slightest bit upset that you're doing so. And almost all hand-picked bouquets of flowers from kids contain dandelions. What's not to love?

     I'm thankful and blessed to have a sister that finds beauty in weeds. Most every time I see a dandelion, I think of her. And our childhood. Blowing the white orb into pieces. Now, I also think of Casey, who, most every time we are outside, stops to pick up dandelions. It's a testament to the way he is being raised. To find the beauty in things. Even weeds.