Dandelions
I used to pick dandelions for my mom when I went to the park. There was a field next to the playground that was always spotted with these seemingly beautiful yellow flowers. They just sprouted out of the ground, perfectly round and pompously bright, as if waiting for me to pluck them. I’d collect a small bouquet and run home to deliver them to my mom, who would graciously accept them.
***
Dandelions grow through the cracks of sidewalks. They spread through a field with ferocity, their green stems grow sturdy and are punctuated by a small sun bursting open. Their vibrant color never fails to distract, but this bursting sun burns everything in its path. It outshines and overshadows even the most colorful rose next to it. Rooted beneath this yellow flower are veins leaching from all around. The longer it can keep you distracted by its warm exterior, the more it can draw from you. Your deep red color slowly begins to drain and your petals droop. And once that cute little dandelion has severed your strength, it will take more. And more.
One day you find yourself in its shadow, comfortable and cool. Nobody walking by stops to look at you; nobody even hesitates. All eyes are on the star beside you. The ball of fire that has burned you from the inside out, leaving you disconnected and weak.
Day after day blurs by, and the dandelion continues to infiltrate, leaving you with just barely enough to keep you upright. Eventually, you find yourself wishing the dandelion would become just a little greedier. To be nothing, at this point, would be better than the pain of this confinement.
Until, one day, there is a little girl playing at the park nearby. Captivated by your captor’s shine, she wanders over and leans down. With one simple motion, she plucks the plant from its source, and with it goes the poison that has penetrated your body. And you breath again. The fire is put out. Your burns run deep, but with time, you heal. You grow a little taller. Eventually, you sprout new petals and leaves, and your deep, authentic red returns. With each layer of burn that heals, you catch glimpses of your strength buried deep within you. You feel grounded into the earth and again know the warmth of a sunny day.
The dandelion survived half a day in a glass of water until that little girl went to bed and her mom threw it in the trash.