No creature is fully itself till it is, like the dandelion, opened in the bloom of pure relationship to the sun, the entire living cosmos.—D.H. Lawrence

As a little girl, I used to get upset when my dad mowed the lawn—mulching all the pretty, yellow flowers in the process. I couldn’t understand how those flowers that I picked for countless bouquets, entwined in my hair, and used as a garnish for mud pies were any less special than the ones fussed over in the flower beds.

Not just a pesky weed, dandelions pack a powerful metaphorical punch! While often overlooked or abhorred, they are tenacious, adaptable, and nearly every part has a purpose. They multiply with fervour, growing strong roots in quite astonishing places. They wake up every morning as the sun rises, bask in the warmth of afternoon light, and bow their golden heads as the sun goes down. What a glorious example of living with purpose and in reverence to our Creator, and what a miracle to have right under our noses . . . and feet!

I’ve grown up now and, thankfully, my husband doesn’t take me too seriously when I ask him to mow around the dandelions. And I try not to take it too hard when he doesn’t. I know it won’t be long until our yard is again filled with those sunny sparks.