There is a florist named Maria who often complains of her back hurting, but she continues to lug around gallon buckets full of spring. Fresh flowers in every color.
When she sees me coming she gives me a knowing look and says "What color this week?" and I respond with the color I'm craving. This week, orange.
She points to an amazing bundle of whatever color I want to surround myself in and says (every week) "These safe for Marvin kitty."
I just don't have the heart to tell her.
But she makes my day every time I visit her. I'm touched by her caring and remembrance.
1 comment:
The flower looks like you.
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