Slice of Lucy: Daffodils

 

I never knew about daffodils when I was a little girl. They did not grow in Florida where we moved when I was three. When I was about ten years old, however, my great aunt sent a box in the mail from Baltimore, Maryland. Any box from Aunt Lucy (about whom I wrote in yesterday's post) caused terrific excitement and anticipation. I don't remember to whom the box was actually addressed, but my mother, brothers, and I all gathered around to see what it might contain. Under precisely folded brown paper, there was a shoe box. After removing the lid, we found slightly damp paper towels wrapped around something long and slim. As we unrolled the blanket of protective paper, a sweet bundle of live daffodils was revealed. My brothers were unimpressed, but I was entranced! A phone call to Aunt Lucy quickly cleared up the mystery; she had bought the daffodils as part of a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. I gushed my thanks and hung up so I could put the flowers in water.

I have no memory of how long my first daffodils lasted, but Aunt Lucy sent me daffodils every year for a long time, even when I was in college. When I dreamt of my future, I hoped and planned to live in a place where daffodils could grow in the ground. As I considered the costs and benefits of moving to Ohio five years ago, one important consideration was the fact that I could grow daffodils in my yard. Planting dozens of daffodil bulbs my first fall was a labor of love; as my nearly frozen fingers dug into the clayey soil, I did not even realize that the daffodils would deliver hope and joy every year or that they would be the only blooms the local deer would not devour. I just knew that my dream of daffodils growing outside my door had been fulfilled.

When we pulled into our driveway recently after a two week road trip, I was thrilled to see daffodils nodding in my front garden. Their fresh, dainty heads are always a welcome harbinger of spring. We might still have snow and cold temperatures for another month, but the daffodils promise winter's iron grip has been broken. Daffodils are a symbol of hope.