The Daisy

In a little village, there was a white house with blue shutters near the road. There was a beautiful garden full of flowers of all kinds in front of the house. And right underneath the window, in the bushy grass and weeds, there was one tiny plant – a daisy. The sun shone on it all day and so, each day, early in the morning it opened its tiny snow-white petals surrounding the little yellow sun of its fruit. It felt very pleasant and glorious basking in the sunlight and it turned itself toward the sun, much like all the other flowers in the garden.

The daisy always enjoyed the day, soaking in the wonderful sun’s warmth and listening to birds singing in the trees. The daisy loved the song of the birds, always chipper and always light.

Sometimes, when the nearby red-brick school had a break, it could hear the children playing. While they were sitting at their desks, pencils in hand, learning how to write and to count, the daisy was learning to see the things around it and the beauty of the world.

It was enough for it to keep its eyes open and every minute there would be something new to admire. The daisy was a happy and joyful plant. It imagined that all its feelings were contained in the bird’s lyrics and melodies, for all the world to hear. With love and respect, it watched a little grey and dark blue bird that was lucky enough to fly around and sing so beautifully. It was happy that the bird was so clever and felt no jealousy at all.

“I can see and hear,” the daisy told itself, “the sun is shining on me and the wind gives me little kisses every now…