Waiting to be Filled © 2005 Debbie Turner Chavers A short story. When my oldest daughter was a little girl she presented an older family member with a freshly picked flower from the yard. I do not remember what the flower was, but the person who received the gift saw it as a weed, not as a flower. He considered all flowers that were not of the genius that he cultivated to be weeds. He worked in horticulture and propagated new flowers. He had mastered flower knowledge yet was in the infant stage of sensitivity. He failed to see the bud of sharing that was growing in my young daughters heart. "That is not a flower, that is a weed" he said, as she presented her gift. " I do not want it, take it out of the house." Her child like response was " But I picked it for you". Needless to say. I was not pleased and my daughter appeared confused by the rejection. She went from a smile and out stretched hand to a bewildered look and retreat. I followed. I t...
