It's Not Autumn Without 'Em

"Look at all the pretty sunflowers!" I exclaimed to my husband on the way home from the county fair last week.  There were clumps around telephone poles, left undisturbed by mowers, and drifts in slopes and roadside ditches.  "Let's stop and pick some!" I urged, but we were always past likely-looking places to pull over by the time I pointed them out.

Yesterday, a Saturday, I renewed my campaign to drive into the country and gather some of the colorful flowers.  There were none on the first road we took, but we found a smattering of blooms as we backtracked along our fair route.  "Stop!" I called in time for Howard to park along the roadside.  Wow! These were hard to break off!  The rubbery stems twisted and refused to break off in my hands.  I should've brought a knife or shears!

Finally gathering a few, clumps of dirt and all, and my nose streaming (that should have told me something), we stopped at a couple more sites before I resignedly called it quits.  They weren't as plentiful or as pretty as they had been last week.

We had a couple more errands, and by the time we got home the flowers were wilted.  Not to be deterred, I found a jar, filled it with water and placed it in a ceramic pumpkin.  The flowers lolled listlessly over the edge, although the seed pods that had lost their blossoms were attractive on the long stems.  I tried to ignore my itchy throat, but soon there was nothing for it but to transfer my bouquet to the front porch. I was allergic.  The bedraggled posies looked pitiful, anyway.

Imagine my surprise when I peeked out on the porch this morning and saw they had regained their beauty!  The water and the fresh overnight air had done them good!  The large, pinky-orange pumpkin was a splash of color on the high-backed white bench with the cheery faces of the sunflowers spilling out in their yellow-brimmed bonnets.

I had gone to bed a little disgruntled last night, not only over the flowers, but our failed attempt to attend an autumn fair at a neighborhood church.  We finally found a parking place among a sea of cars at the popular event, but walking in, there were no people to speak of.  "What time do you open?"  I asked a lady behind a booth.  She told me 6:00 o'clock, but it was not even 5:30.  My husband was reluctant to leave, so we found a shady spot to sit, watching people do last-minute preparations.

At last the ticket booth opened, and my husband got his wallet out only to say, "I thought I had more money than this!"  What? There was no ATM on the premises, and he had only enough cash for tickets for one of us to eat.  No cake walk, no anything, and it was too much trouble to come back and hunt another parking place.  We went home and I made supper, the day ending on a disappointing note. 

Then this morning a devotional I read seemed to be God speaking just to me, and the pretty, revived flowers underscored His loving care in even the smallest things!  And my allergies are better, too!  Thank You, Lord!