It’s still February and spring is already starting to bloom in Portland. These tiny daffodils come with a personal story. I’m not one for talking about personal things on social media, but I decided to share this story. Several years ago I was in the hospital with a bout of nearly fatal pneumonia. One of my dearest friends brought me a potted plant yellow daffodils to brighten up my room. After I got home and gained enough strength, I decided to plant the flowers. I wasn’t sure if they would survive. Being the dead of winter, it was the wrong season to plant anything. As a first sign of spring, a year later, to my surprise and delight, the miniature daffodils appeared. As they did the next year and the next and the next, for seven years now. Every year these tiny flowers remind me of the resilience of life and the riches of enduring friendship. These bright little flowers remind me that I’m a lucky person.
