The tulips will die.


But life will continue.

The darkness of 8 inches of cold earth entombed the bulb beneath the elements that continued to rage. Morning and evening unwaveringly go on day after day as the days turn into weeks, the weeks into months.

Halloween, Christmas, New Year, Valentines and Easter came and went in slow succession while the cold permeated the earth and worked it’s germinating properties upon the onion like orbs laying silently hidden from sight.

With the warming of the air came the first hint that there was anything under the soil,  the tiny green point pushed skyward with the passing days bringing first stem then leaves. Hours, days and weeks finally passed by until there proudly stood erect under the archives of sky a bright colourful flower.

Unceremoniously it was chopped from its life giving roots to join the huge bundles of farmed flowers heading from the fields to the retailers.

Chilled on the hold of the aircraft and delivery van they drop finally into the bucket in the supermarket foyer

With determination of purpose the gentleman strides from the car park, he has no groceries to buy today, only tulips. Flowers bought he returns quickly to the car and heads out of town. It is a short but steady ascent to the wooded car park where he deposits his vehicle and returns to foot.

Through the trees, the gate negotiated he climbs the grassy path, pausing only to refill his lungs at intervals it is only ten minutes to the summit. This is no Everestine climb but it holds the satisfaction of a fulfilled promise, a completed obligation and a clear conscience.

I have no idea why a slowly wilting bunch of tulips sat atop the concrete pillar yesterday. My kids never even registered their existence as they sprinted past but someone had gone to the effort of placing them there. This was no accident, they were not just passing, I will never know the reason.

It doesn’t matter to me, the person who did this knows and that is all that matters.

No act, no word, no life is ever wasted if used purposefully.

These dying tulips came from a field the size of Belgium to rot on top of a minor Hill, but they gained significance the moment someone invested purpose and thought into them.

We all grace this planet for such a short space of time, listening to Sam Cooke this morning who departed at 33 years reminded me that life is uncertain at best. It can be cut down in a moment of time.

We are all flowers quickly fading but we can all bring some colour, fragrance and joy if we are willing to be used.





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