by Rachelle Rea
Usually, I like roses. The sparkling purity of a white rose is lovely. Red roses remind me of sappy sweet romances. I find blue roses interesting. Yellow roses make me smile. And my friends know that peach roses are my favorite flower in all the world.
So when I saw the daisy planted by a neighbor’s mailbox, I almost walked right by it.
But then, I stopped. I stared at that yellow daisy for as long as my puppy, eager to continue his walk, would allow.
The radiance and beauty of that lone flower stood out in stark contrast to the wintry white that surrounded it.
Was I really seeing this? Was there really a daisy blooming in December?
But that little daisy kept pushing its bright little face up to the sky, smiling at me as I stared skeptically. It seemed completely oblivious to the fact that it was not supposed to be there.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m not where I’m supposed to be — as if I’m missing something and this is all a grand nightmare. Soon, I think to myself, I’ll wake up and this will all be over.
Then I pinch myself and recognize reality for what it is. Hard. Cold. Unbending.
That’s when I want to stop the world and jump off, take a vacation from the winter.
But that daisy inspired me.
It inspired me to keep smiling, even when my heart is shattered.
It encouraged me to brighten the days of others walking this suffering road, even when I feel as if I have nothing left to give.
It inspired me to walk through the wintry darkness of this world, and be like the little daisy that kept blooming even when it didn’t belong.
College freshman Rachelle Rea can be found with her nose in a good book, her pen in her favorite notebook, or blogging at https://rachellereacobb.com.