The worth of a tulip

The drudgery of the dark, cold days of winter was eased by the thought of the patches of tulips that soon would be showing their patches of courage. An unmatched determination to be admired as they braved that certainty of frost to push their green, sturdy leaves through the cold ground so often covered by winter's blanket of snow. A provision of nature to allow the earth to rest after giving its strength for the comfort of man. The tulip would soon throw its magnificent beauty toward the heavens. It will stand sturdy against the winds to furnish the unblemished hues of reds and yellows to be admired by tulip lovers near and far. The slightest encouragement from a warming sun brings the green shoots from their winter bed to reach for the heavens.

Such is with my beds of tulips. A sure sign of spring to see the dark green against the deep brown of waking earth. The thin layer of snow had revealed the tracks of little boys cutting through our yard on their way home from school. But what is this the tracks lead through my tulip garden. We had removed alll of the shrubs from our front yard and replaced them with new shrubs. We had purchased new tulip bulbs. Where each step had packed the earth no tulip had been able to push through the hard surface created by the continued passing of small feet no matter how young. We very carefully put them in separete beds. Anyone could see that this is a flower bed. Why had these young boys deliberately walked into my tulips? What is worse, I know these boys. Good kids really, perhaps misdirected by busy parents.

I enjoy flowers and the tulip is very special. Looking deep into the center of that delicate bloom I have seen the image of God. And why not? He designed this very plant. The colors of the rainbow breathed with great care into this plant to form its gentle beauty.

Now my dilemma begins. The pulling on my heart strings. Some of my tulips will not grow because the soil has been packd so hard the tender shoots could not break through. Why were those tracks in my flower garden. It wasn't deliberate I am convinced. I try to put myself in the place of these youngmen. Could he be walking with head bowed because of strong criticism of peers at school. Perhaps a teacher had not realized how deeply his criticism had cut into a gentle soul before his friends. Perhaps he wanted to get to the safety of his home. To open the door and call out the magic word of mother. When she answers with the word "what" the conversation is over. The boy is home and for a few hours the outside world can not penetrate those loving walls or to hurl hurt at his tiny spirit. As he walked toward that sancturay of love he did not realize he was stepping on one of God's creations.

The tulip bulbs will multiply and grow again, but what about the boy. To tell his parents what he has done and cause that home to criticise him more. To turn his vestige of safety into a home of hurt. To cause tears to trickle down his cheeks. That hurt to be caused by a man he thought was a friend. Is the beauty of the tulip more precious than the tears of the boy. Is his trust in me less than the energy to plant the bulb. The tulip will return as the ground is softened around it. Will the trust of the boy ever fully return and will he remember ten, twenty years from not. Long after I have departed from this life what will his thoughts of me be.

Is the worth of a tulip more or less the worth of the tears of a young boy??