THE FLOWER


She was a fair maiden.  Not only beautiful but very intelligent.  She lived in the city and was loved and trusted by many.  In this city was located a community garden.  When you had shown yourself to be responsible and trustworthy,  a small plot of the garden would be allocated to you and on your plot you could plant what you wanted.  Some planted vegetables for nourishment of their bodies.  Others planted flowers simply for the beauty they provided.  After years of learning and maturing the fair maiden was finally allowed to have a plot to work.  It was a plot owned by a man and his wife that had much faith in the fair maiden.  To this man and his wife,  this plot was very valuable. In fact it was more valuable to the man and woman than it would be to anyone else.  By allowing the fair maiden to plant their plot, it showed the trust they had in the fair maiden and she in turn took the responsibility of this plot very seriously.

The fair maiden decided she would plant flowers.  She was a gentle lady and loved things of beauty.  She plowed her plot until the soil was soft and smooth.  She then carefully planted the seeds.  One by one,  not to close together in order to give them room to grow.  She fertilized and watered.  In fact she watered daily and made sure no weeds grew in her plot that would crowd and smother her plants as they grew.  And then she waited with much anticipation.  And she waited and waited and waited.  Not a single flower appeared.  Weeds would grow and she would pull them up but no flowers ever broke the ground.

I often wonder what went through the fair maidens mind as she waited.  Was she disappointed?  Did it depress her that she never saw a flower grow?  Did she feel that she had failed?  After years she disappeared.  I know not where she went  but for years the plot that she had taken such an interest in lay barren. Others tried to grow things on this plot and on occasion would get a very small yield of crops but mainly the plot continued to lay barren.

And then, out of no where, a plant began to grow.  It wasn't a large plant but kind of small.  No one had ever planted these seeds on this plot since the fair maiden so it must be from her seeds.  No it wasn't the year after she planted the seeds on this plot.  No it wasn't even ten  or twenty years later but it was over fifty years later.  And then a small flower bud.  And then another. This must be a miracle everyone thought.  This defies nature they said.  Where can we find the fair maiden?  Where should we look?  Is she still alive or has she passed away? She must see this.  She must see the results of her labors. I have no idea where she is but I wish I did.  I wish I could find her.  I wish I could sit and talk to her.  Why do I wish to see her you ask?  What would I share?

It was in the 1950's.  I was far from being a good student at Kirkwood Elementary School.  My teacher's name was Ms. Ernhart.  She was special to me and made me feel I was special to her.  I hated homework.  In fact I hated all school work but even though I hated the work, she made me want to be at school.  Why you ask?  Because she made me feel that I was smart.  I can remember her telling me how good I was at spelling.  I can remember being proud and wanting to be a good speller because of this.

I remember once she gave us an  assignment  to read a book from the library and then do a book report.  She told us we could chose our own book as she wanted us to read something we were interested in.  We were to tell about the book and also about the author.  As for me,  I had no time for this book report stuff.  I had much more important things on my mind like my paper route and playing baseball with the guys.

It was the night before the book report was due.  I had a problem.  I mean I had a big problem.  I had not only not read a book,  I had not checked one out and the library was now closed.  Ohhh boy!!!!!!  How was I going to get past this.  I had really dug myself into a hole this time.  It's probably not what your thinking.  I wasn't worried about making a zero on the grade.  My problem was I didn't want to fail Ms. Ernhart.

As I sit in my room trying to come up with an excuse why I didn't have a book report, the craziest idea came to my mind.  I would make a book up.  I would write a report on a book that didn't exist by an author that didn't exist.  I even made up the copyright date and the publishing company.  Boy I thought,  "I'm Good".

A couple of days later Ms. Ernhart called us each up to her desk,  one at a time,  to give us our book reports back and discuss our grade with us.  I was as nervous as I had ever been.  Then I saw my grade.  I had made an "A".  She then told me that my report was the best story she had ever read.  She said she gave me the "A" because she knew it was much harder to make a story up than to read a book and do a report.  She then said something to me I will never forget.  She said four simple word.  "I'm proud of you".

It was over fifty years before I wrote anything else.  Are my post the best I've ever read?  Not by a long shot, but I've finally found that I enjoy writing.  I enjoy telling a story. And the most important thing...."I'm proud of me"

If you haven't figured it out yet,  in the metaphor I started this post with, Ms Ernhart is the fair maiden,  my parents are the man and his wife,  I am the plot of ground and the flower buds are my writings.  Hopefully after awhile I will improve and the buds will become full blooms. The seeds of course are the words of encouragement given to me by Ms Ernhart. 

I have no idea where Ms. Ernhart is.  I don't know if she is still alive or dead.  But I do know she touched many a child.  She was a wonderful teacher and a beautiful person.
I wish I could sit down with her and thank her in person but I can't.  If there was a Ms. Ernhart in your life and you can still thank her,  I hope you will.

God Bless our Teachers