The Waltz of the Crocuses: A Happiness Tale
The flower divas, a dedicated group of cosmic nurturers that we might think of as angels of sorts, have a special fondness for the miniature crocus elementals.
Theirs is a simple pattern, one of the first the elementals would perform in their centuries-long flower careers. But their colors were so pure and bright, and despite their tiny size and delicate petals, they were so eager and strong, that they made the divas proud.
In the outermost nursery where they practiced their last lessons before embarking on their earth adventure, they filled the rooms with laughter. They were so gentle and graceful, and so determined to get everything right that the divas couldn’t help but adore them.
When they napped, folded into closed little bud forms, the divas played Tchaikovsky for them, and watched their little flower dreams float up to the stars.
Graduation day in the nursery was filled with excitement. Each group was given its colors and final instructions, and then they got to see the spot on Earth where they would bloom.
The divas led them through their last rehearsal , and, after a special treat of sweet nectar, kissed them tenderly and tucked them into the travel streamers that would carry them, sleeping, to their tiny bulbs, beneath the soils of Earth.
In our time, weeks have passed since then. And now the little crocuses have pushed through the soil and opened to the sun, radiating their joy out into the world and waltzing gracefully in the breeze.
They have no idea, of course, how they delight my eyes as I walk past them in the morning, or how deeply they touch my heart with joy. And no one knows that when I look at them, I think I sense divas smiling down from sky and catch faint strains of Tchaikovsky wafting on the breeze.
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