The Language of Flowers
Ding dong! I looked up from the couch. Who in the world could that be? My body wracked with debilitating illness, I’d hidden myself away, isolating from everyone and everything. Friends telephoned, texted, emailed, sent cards. I didn’t respond, telling God in my prayers that I had nothing to offer anyone in the sorry shape I was in.
I reluctantly got up and opened the door to a flower delivery. As I put the bouquet on my dining table, I was struck by its uniqueness. It was comprised of solitary blossoms of many varieties that shouldn’t really go together yet somehow did. The mystery bouquet had come in a blue Mason jar, without a card.
