I ran into a stranger as he passed by. "Oh, excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too; I wasn't even watching for you."
We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said good-bye.
But at home a different story is told, how we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal, my daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down. "Move out of the way," I said with a frown.
My daughter walked away, her little heart broken. I didn't realize how harshly I had spoken.
While I lay awake in bed, God's still small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use, but the children you love, you seem to abuse. Look on the kitchen floor, you will find some flowers there by the door. Those are the flowers your daughter brought for you. She picked them herself, pink, yellow and blue. Your daughter stood quietly not to spoil the surprise, and you never saw the tears in her eyes."
By this time, I felt very small, and now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed; "Wake up, little girl, wake up," I said.
"Are these the flowers you picked for me?" My daughter smiled, "I found them, out by the tree. I picked them because they are pretty like you. I knew you would like them, especially the blue."
I said, "Daughter, I am sorry for the way I acted today; I should not have yelled at you that way." My daughter said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway."
I said, "Daughter, I love you too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."
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