My day began on a definitely sour note when I saw my six-year-old wrestling with a limb of my azalea(杜鹃花)bush. By the time I got outside, he'd broken it. "Can I take this to school today?" he asked. With a wave of my hand, I sent him off. I turned my back so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in my eyes.
The washing machine had leaked on my brand-new linoleum. If only my husband had just taken the time to fix it the night before when I asked him instead of playing checkers with Jonathan.
It was days like this that made me want to quit. I just wanted to drive up to the mountains, hide in a cave, and never come out.
Somehow I spent most of the day washing and drying clothes and thinking how love had disappeared from my life. As I finished hanging up the last of my husband's shirts, I looked at the clock. 2: 30. I was late. Jonathan's class let out at 2: 15 and I hurriedly drove to the school.
I was out of breath by the time I knocked on the teacher's door and peered through the glass. She rustled through the door and took me aside. "I want to talk to you about Jonathan," she said.
I prepared myself for the worst. Nothing would have surprised me. "Did you know Jonathan brought flowers to school today?" she asked. I nodded, thinking about my favorite bush and trying to hide the hurt in my eyes. "Let me tell you about yesterday," the teacher insisted. "See that little girl?" I watched the bright-eyed child laugh and point to a colorful picture taped to the wall. I nodded.
"Well, yesterday she was almost hysterical. Her mother and father are going through a nasty divorce. She told me she didn't want to live, she wished she could die. I watched that little girl bury her face in her hands and say loud enough for the class to hear, 'Nobody loves me'. I did all I could to comfort her, but it only seemed to make matters worse." "I thought you wanted to talk to me about Jonathan," I said.
"I do," she said, touching the sleeve of my blouse. "Today your son walked straight over to that child. I watched him hand her some pretty pink flowers and whisper, 'I love you.'"
I felt my heart swell with pride for what my son had done. I smiled at the teacher. "Thank you," I said, reaching for Jonathan's hand, "you've made my day."
Later that evening, I began pulling weeds from around my azalea bush. As my mind wandered back to the love Jonathan showed the little girl, a biblical verse came to me: "... these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." While my son had put love into practice, I had only felt anger.
I heard the familiar squeak of my husband's brakes as he pulled into the drive. I snapped a small limb bristling with hot pink azaleas off the bush. I felt the seed of love that God planted in my family beginning to bloom once again in me. My husband's eyes widened in surprise as I handed him the flowers. "I love you," I said.
