Short Stories

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Dandelions

When I was growing up my father was famous for using the “D” word on many occasions. He would shout it in the kitchen, living room, backyard, and front yard. He did not worry about his location he only knew that he hated them more than anything.
“Dandelion” he would shout while watering the roses on the side of the house then as quick as a wink he would pinch off the little flower smash it between his fingers, drop it on the ground and then squish it with his shoe. He knew that once you had one growing in your yard, an entire garden was sure to follow.
I always loved dandelions. I loved their shape, a tiny sunshine you could hold in your hand. Beautiful. I think the best thing about dandelions was the magical present hiding inside. After a while the little yellow sun would grow a long stem and shoot up like the moon. The result was a fluffy flowers existing completely of seeds. I loved to make wishes and blow. I knew that somewhere, somehow my wish would come true. It had to, how could anything as light and beautiful create anything but a wish. Of course my father knew differently.
When I was 24 years young I got my first teaching job in a very small community in California. It was a very nice school full of wonderful teachers and children. I was not sure what I was going to do but I did know that I had been trained well and that, well, everything was going to be okay.
On the first day of school I greeted my class at the door. They were much smaller than I expected. They gazed up at me waiting for my first words of wisdom. “Good morning” I squeaked. One little girl in the front of the line smiled and said “Good morning” Then she proceeded to tell me about a plan she had made for the day. All of the girls were going to be flowers. There was Rose, in her pretty pink dress. Daisy in her beautiful yellow and white jumper and Danielle, a Dandelion with beautiful yellow hair that shined like the sun and by the way, she loved the color yellow.
Unaware of what I was supposed to do or say to this I just nodded uncomfortably and invited the children to come in. As the day passed I learned how much I didn’t know about teaching and children. I also learned that like the dandelions in my father’s lawn if I did not get a handle on things rapidly I was sure to lose control.
By lunchtime we started to understand each other and I started to see the many beautiful flowers in my classroom. Rose was soft and delicate most of the time but she had her thorny side too. Daisy loved to sit and take in the view. She was a watcher. Danielle, the Dandelion, well she had the ability to create her own garden if she wished, but by afternoon she was just too tired.
As the parents arrived to pick up their children I noticed that my Dandelion had changed her hairstyle. Most of the day she had a headband arching nicely over the top of her head. Now when I looked, it was circled around like a sweatband. Her beautiful yellow hair was no longer tucked neatly under it and was now sprouting out of the top like a fountain.

“Danielle, tell me about your new hair style. Did something special happen?”
Daniel smiled and sat up straight.
“Why yes teacher, I am no longer a dandelion, now I am a wish. Quick blow.”
A smile crept across my lips and then I just had to laugh.
“A wish, I asked, well let me see…”
“Don’t tell what it is or it won’t come true”
“We all took a deep breath and blew our little dandelions hair.”
It was a magical.
That was my first day, 17 years later I still look back on the lessons that first class taught me. Sometimes in the smallest packages come the biggest lessons. Danielle though small, taught me a great respect for both children and Dandelions. They are beautiful, strong, flexible, resilient and full of endless possibilities just like our Father in Heaven.

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