Slowly, day after day, she grew. Her pretty green leaves grew, her bud opened, and she was beautiful. Her petals matched the blue of the almost clear sky, clear except for the fluffy, white clouds floating along like little boats in a calm sea.
There she stayed, happy in the mild spring weather and sensing life all about her. Green grass grew round her, other flowers opened their buds not far from her, and farther away were the mighty giants called trees, whose trunks and branches towered upwards to the sky. Then there was the kind of life that moved: funny little furry animals scurrying about to find nuts, birds hunting for worms to feed their babies high up in their nests. Sometimes she had a visitor - a bee.
"May I have some nectar to make my honey?" he asked her.
"Of course you may have nectar. You carry my pollen with you to other plants so there will be more of my kind. I shall give to you, for you give so much to me."
The bee settled on the flower and took nectar, and whispered secrets to her as he worked. Finally, he rose and flew off.
"Good-bye," he buzzed, as he disappeared into the distance.
But there were other visitors, too. Two creatures, who were very big compared to the pretty plant, came one morning.
"Oh, what a beautiful flower!" said one child. "Let's pick it and take it home."
"Why?" thought the flower. "Why must they take me away from this lovely place and put me in a vase or a bowl, where I shall die after a little while? Why must these humans be so selfish? They see beauty, and they want to claim it for themselves, instead of leaving it alone for everyone and everything to enjoy."
"No, let's not pick it," said the other child. "It looks so pretty just where it is. It wouldn't be so nice at home in a vase."
"But can't we take it home and show Mother?"
"I know! We'll bring her here to see it. She likes pretty things."
Later, there was a bigger creature with the two smaller ones.
"We were going to pick it for you, Mother, but it's so lovely just where it is."
"It is beautiful, children. If you had picked it, it would soon have lost its beauty. And beauty is a thing that should be shared. Out here in the open is where the flower belongs, where all can enjoy it. Come, children! We shall come back tomorrow and see whether it is still here."
And the humans left.
"I shall be here tomorrow," thought the flower, "and a long time more, for all those who can appreciate and understand me."
When the sun went down, the petals folded up for the night, and in the morning they opened and were more beautiful than ever.