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VIGNETTES

May colored flowers

/ 12:15 PM May 14, 2011

“Abby, what color would you like this time?” her mother asked.

“Since I gave red roses yesterday, maybe yellow ones would be fine,” Abby replied.

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“I think yellow is a very nice choice, dear.” Her mother bought the flowers.

“I just wished there were more colors to choose from,” the girl exclaimed.

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“But there are just seven colors, most of which are just results of mixing the primary colors of—”

“Magenta, yellow and cyan, which are also called the subtractive primary colors,” Abby continued with encyclopedic precision.

“Wow! That brain of yours is really quite something, dear. God has been so good to give you such a gift.” She gave her daughter the flowers and kissed her on the forehead.

The trip to the nearby church took some 20 to 30 minutes. Abby became more excited as she counted the number of traffic lights before reaching their destination. “I can’t wait to give her the flowers,” she said. “I can’t imagine how happy she will be when I try to give her a different color every day.”

“I’m sure she’s very happy and will not forget your daily visits.”

They reached the church and parked the car. It seemed like they were the first ones to arrive. Inside, they genuflected and went to the empty front row pews.

“Is Father Dewey here already?” Abby asked.

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“He’s nowhere to be seen, but I’m sure he will come out when your classmates arrive,” her mom replied.

They knelt down and each began saying their own prayers before the tabernacle. Abby couldn’t help sniffing the roses while she prayed.

“Abby, you remember your promise?” Her mom smiled.

“Oh yes, I forgot!” She immediately held the roses away from her nose. “I hope she didn’t see me doing that.”

“She must have seen it, but don’t worry. She understands you love roses too. And I’m sure she’s moved to know you’re trying to also offer the sacrifice of not enjoying their scent.” From afar, the laughter and chattering of children entering the church could be heard.

“They’re already here, and I think I just saw Father Dewey coming out of the rectory,” her mother said.

The children entered in two files. Each one was excitedly holding a bouquet of flowers. They silently filled the front pews and then Father Dewey entered.

“Good afternoon, children,” he greeted them.

“Good afternoon, Father Dewey!” they said together.

“Children, you know that we are pleasing our Lord through our Blessed Mother in this month of May by saying the Rosary every day. But we also want to give Her the special flower with an offering from our heart of some sacrifice.”

“Yes, Father Dewey,” they all responded.

“And since we are just three days away from the end of May, we can now share with everyone what we had offered.” The children were so eager to talk about what they sacrificed for our Lord.

One by one they stood up and said their offerings: a boy refused to play video games, another to read comic books, a girl offered not to watch TV, etc. Then when it was Abby’s turn everyone listened attentively.

“I offered not to smell the roses that I offered Mama Mary every day,” she said.

Everyone was certainly moved by what she said. Then Father Dewey asked, “And what did you ask our Lady in return for such a generous sacrifice?”

“I told her I want to go to Heaven right away!”

“Why so, child?” The priest felt a lump in his throat as the child’s reply deeply moved him.

“Because my mom said that in Heaven, Mama Mary will show me all the flowers I have offered Her. And I’m so excited to be able to already see what the colors red, blue, yellow, green, orange and violet are.”

* * *

Let us never tire of our prayers, sacrifices, the sacraments and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. Let us live them constantly, sincerely and lovingly by trying to give them a different hue each day. May we be consoled, although not seeing their true colors before God, that one day—if we are faithful—He and our Lady will show to us their true value and fruitfulness.

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