What More Is There?

September 24, 2009
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In a green meadow there was a flower. This flower was plain and normal. This flower wasn't as tall as the other flowers, or as bright, or as colorful. Everytime someone came to the meadow they would always pick one of the other more beautiful flowers. "What more is there beyond this meadow?" asked the flower. This flower wanted ever so much to be beautiful and colorful like the other flowers in the meadow and not stick out like a sore thumb. But there was nothing this flower could do. Until one day a young girl came to the meadow and sat right in front of this plain and normal flower. "Oh poor little flower, you seem so lonely. You aren't enchanting like the other flowers. You aren't tall like the other flowers. But you are a flower nonetheless. All flowers are beautiful deep inside and that's what really counts. I shall take you home so I can show all friends and family who come over just how beautiful you really are."

And so the girl took the flower home and put it in a vase full of ice cold water. Friends and family came and saw the flower. They would say "What an interesting flower you have there." But one day they stopped noticing it. 'Why won't they look at me anymore?' the flower wondered. Until finally it looked in the mirror across the room and saw that it was dropping and turning yellow. And day by day the flower began to whither more and more. It began to long for freedom. Hoping that someone somewhere could save it. "What more is there beyond this living room?"

Then one day the girl who had taken the flower in came up to it. She took the vase into the kitchen. Grabbing the flower in one hand she emptied the water from the vase with the other. "Sorry flower, but you are dying and I can't have a dead flower in my house. I must get a new one so that people can stop and say 'What a nice flower.' Goodbye you poor lonely flower." And with just a swipe of a hand the small, yellow flower, who had once been green and proud, was turned to trash. And there it stayed for a week until it had been buried under feet of garbage. Then a man came and tied the bag up, flung it over his shoulder, and proceeded to take it outside for the garbage men to pick up. There in the hot sun, stood waiting the poor, lonely flower under feet of garbage until the garbage truck finally came around. But things didn't get better for the whithering flower. It was brought to a dump where it's bag split open and it rolled out onto the piles of
trash. "What more is there beyond this garbage dump?" asked the flower. But there was nothing anyone could do for the poor, dull flower. It thought of it's friends back at the meadow and misses them ever so terribly. And lying there on mountains of trash in the blazing sun taking in the last few moments of life it had it said, "What more is there than to be happy with what you have?"

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