The other evening, when I headed out to the countryside to listen to the owls, I had to take a little detour. I had to stop at Sainsbury’s to replenish my supply of silicone ear plugs because there are some nighttime sounds that I rejoice in, and there are others that I really don’t want to hear Mr Broccoli.
As I walked into the store I was drawn to the bouquets of cut flowers, they were beautiful, really beautiful. I picked a few bunches up, looked at the price and put them down. I picked a few more up, and put them down again. I wasn’t sure I could justify the tenner…..instead I found the earplugs, parted with a fiver and left for my country adventure. But I really wanted those flowers.
It played on my mind all the time I was out. Why couldn’t I buy myself some flowers? Do I not deserve flowers? Is there a more pressing need for the tenner than my own happiness? Am I not even worth a tenner?
Well that did it. Of course I’m worth a tenner! So, with just four minutes to spare, I screeched to a halt in Sainsbury’s car park and ran full pelt towards the automatic doors. Thank God they were still open for business or that would have been a hilarious moment for anyone passing by. Door, face, splat.
I ran in, picked the best bunch, paid and left. I actually bought myself some flowers.
If you don’t have any flowers in your home right now, share mine.
They’re beautiful aren’t they? In the language of flowers we have white chrysanthemums for truth; the truth that we are worth it. A white rose for innocence and asters for love; we are so very loved. The deep burgundy snapdragons are my favourite; they mean gracious lady and I’ll take all the grace I can get. Last of all is the lily and do you know what that means? It’s heavenly to be with you.