Mom, all flowers remind me of you

Not long ago my 4-year-old daughter came running inside with an infinitesimal first blossom of the season. In her chubby fingers, she delicately protected a thread-size stem bearing three tiny white petals presumably from some noxious weed.

“A flower for you mommy!” she exclaimed.

I stopped everything to admire her treasure and carefully placed it in my collection of her daily gifts of colorful rocks, “beautiful” wood chips and dried autumn leaves.

All winter long when I pick her up from preschool, she exuberantly empties her pocket to offer another uniquely designed wood chip from the playground symbolizing her thoughts of me while we’re apart for two hours.

Read the rest of this story at deseret.com
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