I went to Sacramento this weekend. I decided to go at the last minute after talking with a friend. There was an event going on where about 4 - 10 thousands people would be there. There would be a chance I would run into some old friends and make new ones. I thought about what it would be like spending another weekend home alone and thought, I'd rather be alone surrounded by thousands than alone at home alone.
There I was, all weekend, there.
Now I'm home. Alone.
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I love the hair!
The Daffodil Principle
Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come
to
see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a
two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I will come next
Tuesday", I
promised a little reluctantly on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and
reluctantly I
drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house I was welcomed
by
the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted
my
grandchildren.
"Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds
and
fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children
that I
want to see badly enough to drive another inch!"
My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time,
Mother."
"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm
heading for home!" I assured her.
"But first we're going to see the daffodils. It's just a few blocks,"
Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."
"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around." "It's all right,
Mother, I
promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."
After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I
saw a
small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign
with
an arrow that read, " Daffodil Garden ." We got out of the car, each
took a
child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned
a
corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.
It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it
over
the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted
in
majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange,
creamy
white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each
different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it
swirled and
flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five
acres of
flowers.
"Who did this?" I asked Carolyn. "Just one woman," Carolyn answered.
"She
lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well-kept
A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that
glory. We
walked up to the house.
On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are
Asking", was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. "50,000
bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman.
Two
hands, two feet, and one brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958."
For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this
woman
whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one
bulb
at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure
mountaintop.
Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had
forever
changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had
created
something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The
principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles
of
celebration.
That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a
time--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the doing,
learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces
of
time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can
accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world...
"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have
accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty
years
ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those
years?
Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"
My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way.
"Start
tomorrow," she said.
She was right. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of
yesterdays.
The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for
regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"
Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting...
There is no better time than right now to be happy.
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
So work like you don't need money.
Love like you've never been hurt, and, Dance like no one's watching.
If you want to brighten someone's day, pass this on to someone special.
I just did!
Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day
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