this is for you mrs. lipstick! she exclaimed, wide-eyed with a huge smile as she thrusts a pink flower into my hand in the morning before school started.
for me! thank you! i answered, knowing she hadn't picked it for me, but the sight of me impulsively prompted her to hand over one of the bunch of tiny pink flowers she was clutching in her hand.
the tiny pink, well-groomed flowers that clearly were not growing by the side of the road as weeds. pink flowers that had clearly been planted, watered, and nurtured by a gardener.
wow! are these from your garden? i asked.
yeeesss, she replied but her crinkled nose and eyes on the ground gave away her secret.
are they from someone else's garden? i asked again.
her eyes found their way back to me. yes! she exclaimed, and before i could say anything about not picking other people's flowers she skipped off to hand out another lovely pink flower to the next teacher wandering by.
hopefully she picked them from a large well-stocked garden where the mass of flowers she so carefully plucked from the ground will not be missed by their original owners.