| On the Carelessness of Boys |
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| A flower, fragrant and vibrant in its youth, stands proudly in a field, one of many, yet also alone. A boy, passing through the field along his walk, notices the flower, and stops to admire its beauty. The boy, stooping to examine it, admires its color, and sniffs its delicate aroma. The boy, being a boy, with a boy's interests, only stops a moment, then continues on his way. The boy, distracted in his youth, steps upon the flower as he passes, ignorant of his carelessness. The flower, abandoned after the examination, lays struggling to live, stem bent, pedals muddied. Beauty, once so evident, is far from obvious, concealed by damage and neglect. Another, more careful and attentive, might come along, straightening the stem, wiping clean the pedals. The flower, cared for tenderly by another, might regain its beauty, rather than suffer in solitude until death. Beauty, so fragrant and vibrant, can be marred by someone's carelessness, but it remains, concealed inside. And loving care reclaims it. |
| Houston Blankenship |
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