In our family we have a little story. It is about the Pansy.
I think that all of us are brought up with knowing
this little story. One of these days, I hope to find
the poem that was written about it.
My mom wrote the poem. This story was told
to her by her father, my grandfather,
when she was young.
But for now, I will retell this small story.

I absolutely love Pansys. They are my most favorite
flower. I remember my mom retelling this story to me
as I was growing up. I have told my own children this
story as well. Lara already loves Pansys. She delights
in finding them and bring me a flower or two. She has passed
this tradition down to her brother and sister.
Now on with the story

Have you ever wondered what happened to flowers at night?
I know what happens to Pansys. They don't go to sleep
like the rest of the good little flowers. That is the time that
they talk. If you listen very carefully, you can hear them
chattering away. On stormy, rainy nights they will comfort
you. They will talk away your fears of the thunder and lightening.

They are the talking flowers.
They are the most beautiful flowers in my garden.
In memory of my Gramps.

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