I’ve recently been doing some “fall” cleaning and decided to tackle the bin in my room that contains all my school stuff. Call me sentimental or maybe just a good ole' hoarder but I have every notebook and folder from my entire High School years. Sifting through my papers I came across a poem that I actually clearly remember reading in school and enjoying. I’m a firm believer in, and I’m sure I’ve mentioned it in previous posts, the concept of Hashgacha Pratis. That there is absolutely no such thing as coincidence and everything down to the most minute of details happens for a reason. My finding this poem when I did was exactly the pick me upper I needed.
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose
And declared with overacted surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
No vibrant colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower and replied. "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
It’s so easy for me when I’m feeling down or something isn’t going as I planned for it to, for me to mope about and feel sorry for myself.
But every minute I waste being upset is taking away a minute of my life that I can be happy.
There is so much love and beauty out there, so much to be valued and cherished why waste time dwelling on something “bad” that most likely is out of my control to change anyways.
If only to take one minute and find the splendor of that graceful rose in the wilting weed; for it is actually the weeds that give growth and strength for the emerging rose to shine.
Look at life’s obstacles not as stumbling blocks or hindrances but rather as stepping stones for the great things that are yet to come.
A wonderful Succos to you all!
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