A Child Touched By a Flower - a Short Story

This is the best bracelet I ever made, and just think--it came from a piece of this pretty flower. Just goes to show you that the vines of the plant can be made to look just as pretty as the yellow flower, the one with the big eye in the middle.

Look closer, the eye, it’s got lots of little seeds--lots of little eyes. That must be where they are born. Wow, they fall off when I touch them. I bet they will make more and more just like these. The seeds will leave the soft yellow petals. They will fall to make baby sunflowers. I wonder how they do it. Hmmmmmm

Maybe if I count the veins in the leaves--I’m old enough to count--I think I can find out how many veins the leaf has, one, two, twee, four. Maybe each tiny little vein means they are one year older, five, and maybe when they reach six like I am they will grow pretty all over the fields.

I wonder . . . if this flower can make things glow in this way, then I bet I can too. My hair is the same color as the petals; maybe that means something. Mommy braids my hair just like I braided the vine and made me a bracelet.

I’m really glad I took this walk all by myself. I’m not too young, but how will I show that to my daddy when I get back home? He will be mad at me. I won’t have time to tell him what I saw, what I thought. I won’t have time to tell him that I can make dreams--that I look like a sunflower. “I look like a sunflower.” Daddy and Mommy can call me Sunflower. I will love to be called Sunflower, but will they listen to me, will they give me a chance?

I can tell them fast so they will have to hear me. I say, I only left alone because I wanted to be alone. I say, I only touched the flower cause it looked soft, and I only made the bracelet cause the vine fell off. I say, I only took one seed; there were many--I only smiled with the flower in the field. It was what Daddy calls me, “boo-ty-ful,” every minute of it. The fields were so bare, and then there it was—that big flower. The sun showed it off for miles.

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