Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over."
I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to
Lake Arrowhead. "I will come next Tuesday", I promised
a little reluctantly on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned, cold and rainy. Still, I had promised her,
so I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house I was
welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightfully hugged and greeted my grandchildren, declaring, "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!"
My daughter smiled calmly and said,
"We drive in this all the time, Mother."
"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears,
and then I'm heading for home!", I assured her.
She added, "I was hoping you'd take me over
to the garage to pick up my car."
I replied, "How far will we have to drive?"
"Oh...just a few blocks," Carolyn said.
"But I'll drive. I'm used to this."
En route, I had to ask, "Where are we going?
This isn't the way to the garage!"
"We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled,
"by way of the daffodils."
"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around."
"It's all right, Mother", she replied. "I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."
After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road
and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church,
I saw a hand-lettered sign with an arrow that read,
"Daffodil Garden."
We got out of the car, each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over
the mountain peak and it's surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow and butter yellow, salmon pink and saffron . Each different colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with
its own unique hue.
There were five acres of flowers."Who did this?" I asked Carolyn.
"Just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home."Carolyn pointed to a well kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster that read,
"Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking".
The first answer was a simple one, "50,000 bulbs,".
The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman.
Two hands, two feet, and one brain."
The third answer was, "I Began in 1958."
For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought
of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, season in and season out, year after year. This unknown woman
had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty and inspiration.
The principle this woman's daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move
toward our goals and desires one step at a time
(even just one baby-step at time) and learning
to love 'the doing', learning to use the accumulation of time.
When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things.
We can change the world.
"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just think what I might have been
able to achieve!"
My daughter summed up the message of the day in her
usual direct way.
"Start tomorrow," she said.
She was right. It's so pointless to think of the
lost hours of yesterdays.
The way to make learning into a lesson of celebration
instead of a cause for regret is to only ask,
"How can I put this to use today?"
Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....
Until you get a new car or home
Until your car or home is paid off
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose/gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married/divorced
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until spring/summer/fall/winter
Until you die....
There is no better time than right now to be happy.
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
So... Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
and Dance like no one is watching.
