One May morning, on the damp ground of a distant woodland, nine cream-colored blossoms bloomed from an emerald, green plant with fresh dew sprinkled over as if someone had cried upon them. Each blossom was the shape of a small bell that drooped from its stems and gave the appearance of modest nuns dressed in coifs walking to church for Sunday service. This flower held the formal title of its species, Lily of the Valley.

Only nature noticed this development in her domain and used a gentle breeze to whisper a “welcome” to the newcomer. A silent response implied a shared understanding: a new planetary entity had emerged, however insignificant. A symbol of purity, sweetness, happiness, and a new life had been created.

The world around the area kept turning. Squirrels scurried atop tree branches to hide in the shade, rabbits hopped on grassy paths to eat delicious wild grass, and birds tended to hatched eggs.

The Lily of the Valley didn’t object. The sensation of existence and many senses overtook any ideas of attention from others. Soft soil underneath kept the flower grounded. Warm sunrays shared energizing qualities. Cool breezes drifted through its leaves and petals.

This is what life is, to exist here and nowhere else, to experience the gentle majesty of nature forever! I love this!

Sometime later, the woodland was visited by an elderly widow wearing a large floppy snowflake-white sunhat with a green ribbon. She walked how many do at her age, with and without purpose, something not understood until you become old too. In time, she discovered the Lily of the Valley swaying. The woman paused momentarily and marveled at the delicate flora, a minuscule yet angelic part of the environment. She then decided on something.

It all happened instantly; one minute, the lily enjoyed being a player in the symphony of nature; the next, it was plucked from home and placed in the unfamiliar landscape of a wrinkled hand and then a shirt pocket.

What’s happening? Nature, please help me! Where are you?

Unnatural darkness enveloped the frightened flower. Its blossoms shivered in fear. The uncomfortable movements didn’t assist either. The lily, detached from soil, progressively weakened at the root.

Oh, no! Is this my fate?

After a while, the wrinkled hand carried the plant from the pocket and held it out in the open. Instead of the warm sun, there were elongated rectangles that gave off light. The lily then noticed a younger, wearier woman.

“This is a Lily of the Valley, Alice.” The elderly woman said, “The birth flower of May and is said to symbolize happiness, purity, and rebirth. Your father was born in May, and he taught me about them. They’re poisonous, but we can keep this one in a safe place. I thought it would be nice for our precious new family member to see, in memory of her Grandpa Gregory.”

Alice looked at the lily and smiled. “Mom, thank you.” She said, “It’s beautiful.”

For the first time since the strange journey, the flower relaxed.

The sight of me makes this person happy, even though she’s tired. Is this also a part of life?

“Hi, little one,” Alice whispered to the bundle in her arms. “See this pretty flower?”

A small, curly brown head opened its eyes, and grinned. 

I-I made her happy, too. I’m so glad! Perhaps this won’t be as bad as I thought it would be. So why am I shriveling up?

They showed the lily for several days inside a plastic bag to the newborn baby girl and never failed to make her smile. However, the absence of soil took its toll, and the beautiful creamy blossoms fell one by one.

One day, nature’s call came: “It’s time.”

Oh, I can’t. What about the infant? She’ll be sad.

Nature whispered, “Not forever, and she will always remember you.”

The lily sighed in peace. The end is part of existence too, I guess. At least I helped the girl experience happiness. This is the best moment of my life.

Their conversation ended.

Years passed, and another Lily of the Valley grew in the same spot. One day, a young woman who wore a white sunhat with a yellow ribbon came to visit. She looked at the flower and took a picture.

“Grandma Lisa would’ve loved to see this.” She said.

The lady walked away, leaving the new plant elated.

I made someone happy. This is life!

Editor: Lucy Cafiero