Source: A Weed or a Wish?
Walking along the river with my dog the other day, I was noticing the various plants and flowers along the edge. I am no gardener so I admit I don’t know the names of them. I just know that they all have qualities about them that are beautiful is some way. Some are prickly, others delicate and bright. I’m guessing, most I see are actually weeds, their beauty in the eye of the beholder.
One such weed I came across- possibly a variation of the dandelion- made me think of years gone by when, as a child, we would blow on them and make a wish. I don’t know if any of those wishes came true, maybe we were just spreading weeds about the yard. Seeing the flower now, reminds me that life can take turns as quick as the breeze, and that it sometimes takes more than a wish to fix it.
It would be nice if it were as easy as blowing the seeds off a dandelion to make wishes come true. To provide wishes to those struggling, the firefighters battling to save land and home, or those in need of a medical miracle. I was recently reminded how precious life can be and that even the power of wishes and prayers may not be enough. I would gladly sit in a field of flowers and scatter the seeds to the wind, if I knew it would grant a
Weeds, like some people, are hardy, surviving in some of the more hostile environments, yet they do survive, and many thrive. I admire those people who thrive in adversity, their strength and determination, the ability to be a bright spot even when seen as something less. Don’t get me wrong, there are still weeds- like people – who are just prickly mean stickers. I avoid them, because they don’t add anything I find positive.
I would rather be a dandelion. A bright spot in a child’s day as they blow the seeds for a wish, an herbal tea to provide that possible miracle cure, even a landing spot for a bee. Maybe some see the weed, I choose to see the wish.
As I travel around the country, through small towns and large, I notice the presence of many churches. The stained glass windows of many catch my eye, as the sun glints through them. I don’t often have the time to stop and take a picture, but when I am able, I cherish the moment. There are times, as I travel through town, there seems to be a church on every corner. Churches of different denomination yet, just in it’s presence, the message is universal.
Today, as we made our way through town, I began again to notice the churches. I noticed the architecture of the different buildings, the windows, and most important- the open door of most. As I was taking a quick snapshot of one such church, a kind gentleman asked if I had seen inside yet. I replied I had not, and he smiled and said ” come inside I will show you”. I walked to the car where my son was waiting, telling him to come along and see inside.
As we walked inside Don, the gentleman leading the way, explained that this particular church, with its stone exterior, bell tower, rich wood interior and traditional stained glass windows, was designed after English country churches common in the 1800s. Built in 1892, it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The worship space seats about one hundred twenty people and houses both a pipe organ and a grand piano. The sanctuary underwent a comprehensive historical restoration in 1993. Standing in the church with the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows, the beautiful woods of the pews and ceiling were so warm and inviting, a very welcoming building. I suppose if I lived in this town, I might make this “my church”, but since I do not, I will be content with my visit today.
We thanked Don for the visit and went on our way. Even though I don’t live here, or worship here, I felt peace and comfort in his church, and, in turn, this town. I know I will miss this area when we finally move along, but will take with me the blessings we have discovered.