She did most 'the talking
'Bout things of importance,
And I listened with all of my might;
Then Grandpa would smile and say
"Don't you forget it,
Your Grandma is always so right!"

She sometimes would mention
How people give "flowers"
Like a nurse who so gently gave care;
That otherwise would have been painful,
If loving compassion weren't there.

"Flowers" were sometimes delicious
Like a casserole, pie, or cake,
That a neighbor had gotten at market
Or taken the time out to bake.

A lady who came by to read to them
When their eyes began growing weak,
The mailman who often checked in and then
He stayed just a moment to speak.

Sometimes with the pictures that we had drawn,
We children gave "flowers" as well;
Some with notes or cards they both cherished,
('though lots of the words were misspelled.)

My Aunt who would come by to braid Grandma's hair
Just the way that she'd wanted it done;
And my Uncle, each morning, helped Grandpa to shave-
These were "flowers" from a Daughter and Son.

Many years have gone by, but daily I try
To give flowers to folks that I see;
I feel it's a tribute to those that I love
For instilling these values in me.

~ Kathie Dillon Kellar ~
©used with permission
Please take time to visit Kathie's
wonderful site  Here