Falling Inlove with Flowers Instead

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I had just turned 7, and I'd ask for a day with my Grandma as my birthday gift, so that Saturday I was in her aroma filled house that always smelt of the garden or nature itself. Of course I didn't come empty handed; I had a whole collection of stories to tell my confidant. I was starting to have 'boy troubles' as she called it when I told her of Chris and Liam.

Liam was my friend for some time and on my Birthday he had bought me candy and asked me to be his girlfriend. I told him that I would tell him on Monday, the concept was so foreign to me it scared me but I did like Liam too.

Then there was Chris; He was 'a little mean' but everyone liked him and he was good at running. I didn't like him though because he always picked on me, but to my surprise he had come up to me the other day as my friends and I were sitting together at break, and asked me to be his girlfriend. All my friends gasped and giggled, I didn't like him but all my friends seemed to. My best friend, who I had told about Liam, told me to choose Chris because he was cooler. So there was my dilemma: Cool Chris who everyone liked or Liam my friend who I secretly liked. Or none? "What do I doo Granny??" I whined

"There's my Sammy so pretty they can't help but like you" She teased me

"Stop it granny!!" I blushed in irritation as she giggled, clearly amused.

"Well that's something to think about"

There on the coffee table was a vase filled with a combination of different flowers elegantly put together; tulips, white and red roses, daises, and forget-me-nots were the only ones I knew the name to at the time. I had been glancing at them in mid sentence; I guess the way the bouquet was so beautifully arranged must have gotten my attention. Seeing this, she took advantage of my interest.

"You like my flowers Love? I picked them today"

"Yeah they're pretty" I said with childish fascination.

"Let's look at them then"

We knelt and peered at them as if we were invading their privacy. She pointed to each flower telling me their name as if she were introducing me to her friends, while I gently brushed my fingers on their petals in greeting.

"Which is the prettiest flower here Sammy?" She asked me.

"White rose!" I said instantly without even taking a look. The white rose was my favorite flower of which she knew.

"That's nice Sam girl, but I didn't asked what You thought was the most beautiful flower, I asked you what is the most beautiful flower.

I cautiously looked over the flowers, almost saying tulip but then I saw the daisies were so simple and pretty, the roses so elegant, the other flower I didn't know (hibiscus) was quite exotic...there was a pretty one with a less then pretty sent and then a simple one with a nice scent. I silently analyzed them for minutes then looked up at her as if there would be a hint in her face for the answer but there was none.

They were all beautiful in their own way.

Finally I gave in, "I don't know granny, maybe the red rose because everyone likes it, even in the movies and Valentines Day..." I said uncertainly

"Well, the answer is none are, there is no such things as the most beautiful flower love, for all of them are beautiful in a way that only they can be"

"Yeah, I also thought the same thing!"

"Well Sammy, you thought right, but then if I were to ask you which flower is the most beautiful to you, you would say the white rose wouldn't you?"

"Of course" I smiled.

"Why do you like the white rose more than the others?" She inquired.

"Well..." I put my finger in my mouth for thought.

"It just makes me happy. Something about it makes me like it more than the others...it's got a lovely smell and color...if I were a flower I would be a white rose" I finished.

My grandmother gave me a satisfied smile

"Well that's how it is with love dear, how to choose who to love"

I was slightly confused

"Well," she explained," All the girls and boys are flowers. In love, a person should not be looking for the most beautiful girl or attractive guy, or the person that everyone likes. You're looking for your flower. The flower that is most beautiful to you"

I smiled at this amazing insight.

"Sometimes the pretty flowers have a bad scent and sometime the unnoticed flowers have the best scent, and so people's scents are their characters. Just because someone looks attractive doesn't always mean their personality is, and sometimes the people whom we take time to see their beauty are the ones with the best personalities."

I agreed

"And some, love, have both good scent and appearance like you." she said as she smiled and poked my nose, to which I couldn't help but giggle.

"You see Sammy" she continued, " Just as you love your white flower for it's uniqueness and everything else, you said that it reminds you of yourself, in the same way people should be looking for someone whom can see them beyond what others can see. Someone who won't make the mistake of treating them like they're like 'other girls' or 'other guys' like any other flower."

"Does it mean other flowers stop being beautiful and are suddenly ugly? No. but they don't steal you're attention because you have found the type of beauty you have fallen in love with. "She ended.

I got back to school and told Chris I didn't like him, and he continued teasing me for a while before finding another girl to bother. I told Liam I that liked him too but that I was too young to have a boyfriend, he smiled and said, "Okay" which was a relief to me. We remained friends throughout the years, punctuated with fall outs and good moments. I saw him through his first girlfriend and later on in high school, he advice me with my first, who wasn't as good a guy as he seemed. We eventually continued the conversation we had had years back on the playground and our hearts confessed their truths to one another. It might sound fairytale like but we dated, stayed together and have now been married and in love for 5 months and counting.

My wedding bouquet was made of white roses.

From the book "Midnight Memos About Love" - 

get it here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06Y6F3TKG

By Nokulunga Mazibuko ©


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