One day I went for a walk through a neighborhood. I saw a lone flower growing between a crack in the sidewalk and a brick rock wall. At first I felt sorry for this flower. There was a beautiful garden just five feet away from this flower boasting a kaleidoscopic display of color. Surely that was where the flower belonged. Yet, here was this flower, all by itself, growing in a place I couldn’t imagine would be beneficial for anything to grow.
But then my perspective changed. And I was proud of this flower. It did exactly what it was created to do: spread its roots, grow, bloom, and share its color and beauty with the world, despite its unusual circumstances. It could have withered up and died, but it was flourishing.
And it got me thinking about my own children. They are not in the garden I expected them to grow in. There’s a part of me that so desperately wants to scoop them up and put them in the garden with the other flowers. A part of me that fears that strangers will pluck that flower because it doesn’t seem to belong there.
But I want to embrace the unique way they are blooming: their own rate of development, their personalities, their abilities, their passions, and yes, even their quirks.
And when I focus on them that way, I see they are indeed blooming, showing off their unique colors to this world desperate for a little color and joy in it.
And that makes me one proud and blessed mama.
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