Delicate Flower grows to be a Supple Reed.
When I was young a friend referred to me as a delicate flower because I appreciated the simple beauties that life had to offer. I grew up a sensitive child, and later would be called an over sensitive adult. In time the delicate flower grew to be a strong yet supple reed. I learned not to let life wilt me, or snap me like a twig. After many trials and tests, I learned to know when to bend, and give, and yield to the circumstances that life would present. I had a poet’s soul. I spent my childhood in my head, in my room, or alone in the park, or in the woods. I adored animals, the natural world and felt in tune with the rhythms of the wind, and weather. I had few friends and seldom ventured far from my room when I needed companionship. That I found in books. I read Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, and the Encyclopedia Britannica that my father bought when I was very young. Through those volumes, I could explore the world, the hum...