When I realized growing and selling flowers was the right choice.
Last season at a farmers’ market that operated late afternoon into the early evening, a family stopped at our flower stand. The mother with three children stepped under the canopy. The husband and grandmother waited outside the canopy.
The mother asked the children to help pick out two bouquets- one for the kitchen and one for grandma. Today was grandma’s birthday.
Only the eldest daughter seemed interested in picking out bouquets. The younger two children were more concerned with who could bother the other the most.
On the table next to the cash box we kept a bucket of sunflowers to sell by the stem. The bucket caught the eye of the two teasing siblings. The youngest, a boy, quietly asked his mother if he could have a sunflower. As the mother was busy picking out bouquets with the eldest daughter, she did not hear him.
When the mother finished paying for the bouquets I told her to have the children pick out a sunflower for each of them.
The mother was surprised and asked if I was sure. Of course, I said, that's why they are here, to hand out. The two younger kids' eyes beamed with amazement. The three children left with their mother each holding a sunflower.
It was at this time the market became a witness to a small sublime moment.
The eldest daughter walked over towards her grandmother and gave her a sunflower. The grandmother, diminutive in stature and quiet, didn't have to say a word. Her appreciation and love for her granddaughter physically leapt outward for all to see. Her smile lit the market. The grandmother happened to be wearing a large bright yellow shawl that glorified the sunflower and exalted her humble joy. The grandmother held the sunflower prominently in front of the shawl. A trophy for all to see.
The granddaughter turned to her mother and said, “ Doesn’t Grandma look beautiful.”
Next to me on the right I overheard the vendors talking to each other, “Look, she is so stunning.”
Together the family toured the market. The two younger siblings tossed about their sunflowers at each other. A competition, who could be the most annoying. The mother carried the two bouquets in her shoulder bag. Father and eldest daughter walked together. The grandmother radiant, proudly and rigidly held the sunflower aloft as she trailed behind the family.
The woman who owned the stand to my left said, “ The grandmother is striking, so picturesque.”
Nobody failed to take note of the humble, quiet grandmother. She never said a word, her presence encompassed an aural that shouted happiness.
The family stopped and took her picture. A stranger came along and asked if he could take the grandmother’s photo. The family proudly stood to the side watching grandma be the center of attention.
Before leaving the family settled in at the playground located at one end of the market. The children ran about and loudly played as the husband and wife quietly sat on a bench. In between them sat the grandmother spiritedly with content holding the sunflower in front of her. The grandmother with her bright yellow shawl and staley yellow orange sunflower majestically illuminated the eventide.
I do not know if the sunflower was a door opened that allowed an entire market to see the love a family shared: or, if the sunflower was a vessel that allowed a family to enjoy a moment in time.
But, if growing, harvesting, and sharing a single sunflower allows the beauty of life and love to be revealed, manifested and experienced, this is something I can be a part of.
