100 Words: Growing In The Cracks.

A perfect miniature marigold lives in the crack between sidewalk and step. It’s too late to yank it by the roots — it has arrived. It’s growing, has a tiny flower.

Who am I to declare “You may not thrive there…”

My daughter knows a thing or two about the marigold trick. She floated in on the wind when no one was paying attention and planted herself, said hello. How could I say — Mistake! Go back! — once she had gone to the trouble of becoming?

Who am I to refuse life, or say no to blossoming, to the cause of beauty?

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Terri Crosby

Helping you create life-affirming, ever-evolving, happier relationships with those you love. Follow me on twitter at@TerriCrosby or read myblog.

Comments (9)

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    Virginia A Boyle

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    Oh, cheez, Terri, you made me cry again–how tender and sweet. Thank you. Love, Va

    Reply

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    Shiner

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    What a sweet image of Mac’s arrival….thanks

    Reply

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      Terri Crosby

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      Yes, she came in on the wind. Don’t you love that? She really did… :–)))

      Reply

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    Debbie Riggs

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    You mail it every time Terri. It is amazing what you pack into 100 words. I always look forward to reading these.

    Reply

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      Terri Crosby

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      Thank you, Debbie! And I so appreciate you letting me know!

      Reply

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    Joyce

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    Another stunning thought beautifully expressed!

    Reply

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    Teria

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    Terri,
    I’ve gone back and re-read your words (at Spirit’s persistent nudging 🙂 at least 4 times today !
    Who am I indeed….?…..to refuse life, or say ‘NO’ to blossoming …….? (even a multitude of blossoms !)
    A little humbling………:-)………and de-LIGHT-FULL…………….Yesssssss …………:-)

    Reply

    • Avatar

      Terri Crosby

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      Thank you, Teria! So glad the words were helpful.

      Reply

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It seems to be a growing fad these days to call someone a narcissist, or declare they are toxic.
 
Political name-calling is similar—we assign politicians and voters to categories, and brush them off as if they are unintelligent, inferior, or even worthless.
 
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Look past a label, and in the soft light of day, there stands a person like you or like me, coping as best they can. At the end of the day, no friend, parent, or lover making conscious choices intends to be mean, or to ignore, or to embellish. There is always more to the story.
 
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