Flower Carrier

It was a usual Monday for me – filled with errands and a list of to-do items. As I stood in line at the bank, I noticed a woman in front of me with a rather large vase of beautiful, fresh roses. At first, I thought she was delivering them to an employee, but she took her place in line with me. The bank tellers complimented her on the flowers and her face lit up with joy as she spoke about a new boyfriend and how proud she was to have him in her life. She said she finally got it right with this one. I, along with everyone in the immediate vicinity, smiled with her in joy and some of us reminisced of times when we had felt that way also.

Half an hour later, I was in the shoe section (not unusual for me) of a small department store. Movement nearby caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to see beautiful roses a few aisles away. As I admired them, I realized that they were being held by the same woman I had seen about fifteen minutes ago in the bank. This time I was behind her in the checkout line. The same scenario played out before me. The cashiers adored the flowers and the woman repeated her story. Once again, everyone in the immediate vicinity smiled with her in joy, except for me, I was a little bored with the story and wanted to get out of the store.

Another half hour passed and I was at the dry cleaners. Turning to carry my newly pressed clothes to the car, I was aware of the scent of roses. I looked up and became directly aligned with the eyes of the rose carrier. She was beaming as the dry cleaning clerks complimented her on the flowers and smiled with her in joy. My face held a more quizzical look. What was going on here? Was this woman desperate for some act of recognition or attention? Was this the only thing that held merit in her life at this time? Wasn’t she getting sick of telling this same story over and over? Beyond that, wasn’t her arm getting tired?

I busied myself getting back into my car and trudging on to my next errand. However, I couldn’t shake the experience of seeing this woman three times with her flowers and hearing her story repeated. I began wondering about her and how she affected those around her: The flowers brought joy to her and she shared it with everyone in which she came in contact. The gesture of sending the flowers was something of which she was not accustomed, and she did not take it for granted. She was proud to belong with someone and wanted to publicly announce it. It was as if she carried a sign that said, “In this moment I am special and I am acknowledged. It may not last forever, but while it does I’m going to declare it as loud as possible.” But it was still more than that. What I sensed most about her was hope. She was spreading hope about her life, her potential, her destiny.

I began to think about my life. What flowers do I carry with me wherever I go? What is in my life that I feel the need to show everyone that I am special and acknowledged? What do I broadcast to the world that I am hopeful about my future?

What about you? What do you carry? Is it tangible like family photos, jewelry, clothes, or other material items? Or more visceral like the group of friends by which you are surrounded or stories of success? How would you feel without these items? Do they really make a difference? Is it part of our identity, or part of our projected image?
Regardless, I am thankful to the flower carrier. She gave me a moment of self-assessment, and I wish her the best in her flowered future.