Here is the thing. I don't hate Dandelions. Not even a little bit. I actually love them. hating Dandelions goes against how I feel but is acceptable by most people. We are supposed to hate Dandelions. But I never have and have just realized I may never.
My first memory of the happy little flowers was when I "discovered" this beautiful, new flower under a picnic table when I was small. I picked them really fast and rushed into the house to offer them to my mother as a gift. And I remember her being as pleased as me with this wonderful flower and placing then in a vase on the windowsill. I can only assume now they were the first Dandelions of that year. I don't remember noticing when there became more and more. My next memory of them is no one liking them and them being called weeds. But every year I was secretly thrilled when they first became to bloom.
Perhaps I would hate them if I gardened or cared about my lawn. I have no desire to have a flawless lawn. Or if I was allergic to the fluff when they go to seed. Or if I was a farmer bringing in crops. But none of those things apply to me and I have realised. I can't hate something for someone else. I love Dandelions. I think they are happy and summery. I think they add beauty to the green landscape. Another colour to embrace. And I love when my daughter picks them and when my son grips one in his hand like it is a treasure.
I thank God for the Dandelions in my life.
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