Best short story I've ever written.

"WILDFLOWERS"

We all have ideas and beliefs we live by. Some were taught to us and
others we picked up along the way. Some we have no clue as to where
they came from and yet we still accept them as a part of us. And
still others seem to come from out of the blue, as if a gift from
the heavens. This little story is about one of those. A belief I
hold dear that had to have been shipped from some other place and
planted in my heart. It was taught to me in the central plains on an
early fall day.

I was driving westward thru what can only be called Gods
country. Flat lands of rich soil that had bumper crops of every
vegetable you can imagine. Sometimes it seemed the roads went on
forever as I drove. Just myself on the highway, cruising along in
my old beat up Pontiac and trying to identify the crops along side
the road. I could make most of them out. Like Corn. Nice even rows
that stretched off as far as the eye could see. Others I wasn't so
sure about. There was this type of grain that I'd never seen and
so
I finally decided it must be Barley. Another I had trouble with was
some sort of lettuce, or was it cabbage? I settled for cabbage since
I wasn't sure. Field after endless field I passed until finally I
got tired of the name game.

It was then that a little question seemed to pop into my head.
The question went like this:

"If those crops in the field had a spiritual belief, what would
it be?"

Now that's an odd question. Still, I had nothing better to
do
with my time so I decided to play along. I was again passing some
corn and as I looked it over I figured that Corn has got to be
Christian. Standing in nice neat rows just waiting to march into
those pearly gates.

Next came the Barley looking grain and I pegged it as
Muslim. You see, I know very little about Islam and even less about
Barley so the two just seemed to go together. Muslim Barley it was.

As I waited for the next veggie to appear I went ahead and
decided that Tomatoes were Pagan. As much as I love the taste of
vine ripened tomatoes they just had to be a sin of some sort. Now
I'm not equating paganism with sin here. It just seemed to fit in
my
shallow little brain at the time.

Then those cabbage things showed up again. I had to think
a second on that one. Well, they sit close to the ground and are
roundish and plump. Kind `a like Buddha. That's it. They were
meditating Buddhist Cabbage.

I was really getting the hang of this. After naming a few
others I came across a wheat field with a scarecrow still up.
That's
Catholic wheat for sure with the Pope giving his blessings from the
Vatican portico. This was actually a fun little diversion.

It finally got old and I decided to put a tape in the deck
and get lost in some music. As I fumbled around looking for the
right tape another little questioned popped into my head. To this
day I have no idea where it came from. This time it went like this:

"And what is the Sunshine and the Rain?"

I was still looking for the right tape and answered without
even thinking about it. "The sunshine and the rain is the love of
God that makes them all grow." Settling on the Pink Floyd I turned
to put it in when my mind balked. The answer I had just given was
impossible.

I mean, The Christian Corn knew and taught that only it was
on Gods good side. That meant it should be getting ALL the sunlight
and all the rain. The Muslim Barley believed the same thing. So did
the Catholic wheat and all those other damn vegetables. But that was
not what was happening. The sunshine and the rain fell upon each and
everyone one of them the same, as if it didn't give a tinkers damn
what they believed. The sunshine and the rain was giving to each and
everyone of the vegetables just what they needed to grow strong and
tall in both spirit and in life.

No, no, no, no, no!! It is not my place in this world to
turn over ten thousand years of religious dogma by assigning beliefs
to vegetables. I'm a simple man with a simple life and thinking like
this was way, way over my head. I decided to just send the thought
on its happy way and I'll keep driving mine.

It wouldn't go away. I sat there in the driver's seat. And
the thought sat right there beside me. I have no idea where the
original questions came from but I was sure that whoever asked them
was laughing at me.

Finally I decided to accept it. The love of God is the
sunshine and the rain that makes all of gods creations grow strong
and tall. Regardless of what field they are born in or what roots
they grow from.

With that done I gave thanks to the heavens for the insight,
even though I had my doubts about how it would affect me, and
promised to hold it dear. I also said thank you for the little
lesson and now that it was over I'd just be getting on down the
highway.

Finally letting it go I realized I'd been driving on
autopilot. Just watching the road while my brain whirred with the
ideas and their implications. I blinked my eyes a few times and
looked around. What I saw shocked me. I actually had to pull the car
over and stop. I felt inside that in no uncertain terms the heavens
had just informed me that its not the pupils place to say when the
lesson was over

On both sides of the road the fields were covered with
wildflowers. Now this didn't make allot of sense either. Who in
their right mind would let some of the best growing soil in the
world be over run with flowers? No sooner had I asked then I knew
the answer.

God would.

Is a wildflower any less a creation of God then the corn? Or
the cabbage? Should it not also get its sunlight and its rain? Are
the free spirits of the world any less then the most dedicated? I
then knew that the wildflowers are the spiritual beings that could
never live and thrive in the strait and tall rows of the corn. And
the very fertilizer and plant food that makes the barley strong
would shrivel the spirit of the wildflower. And so out here, in soil
as good as all other soil, the wildflower has its own place to grow.
That the one that had created all things had made sure all things
had a place to grow, so the sunlight and rain of his love would let
them become the best that they could be.

The crops and the flowers were at their best. They had been
raised and had grown strong in the sunlight and the rain. I realized
that soon this generation would be harvested so that a new
generation could take its place. A sad thought. But just another
fact of our existence.

Somehow I couldn't help but pray a bit. In hope that when all
the crops are in and its time to rejoice in the end of the season,
The feast will have all of them there.

The Christian corn with the Catholic Wheat and the Muslim
Barley. All joining in the celebration. And the centerpiece on the
master's table will hold the brightest and most beautiful bunch
of
wildflowers that heaven has ever seen.

It was a lesson I learned that day that has changed my life
and my perspective on all things.

If you ever find yourself out in Gods country or any country
for that matter, Don't forget to keep an eye out for the
wildflowers. They seem to be able to grow anywhere that the main
cash crops aren't. And If by chance you come across a whole field of
them then by all means stop and take a long look. You might just
catch a glimpse of someone you know, or maybe even a reflection of
yourself. And if you notice a big gangly flower out near the middle,
just growing this way and that and blooming in all the wrong places,
Don't worry about it too much. Its finally growing up to be just
what it was meant to be. I should know. It's me.

Love and light to each of you,

Milton Redman

Hey there - I just had to take a minute and tell you how much I enjoyed your story. Beautiful sentiment.

Thanks for making my day.

Bleys

Your welcome. I appreciate the kind words.

Love and light my friend,

Wupy

Very good story.

I like it

I've taken the time to read a few of your stories and I must say. Stories like these can only come from a beautifull heart. Please don't let too much time pass by before you share another one of lifes lessons with those of us who appreciate you so much.

posted by mr wupy
I was driving westward thru what can only be called Gods
country.

Here's one for ya. God's country for me is driving from Adelaide to Alice Springs and slowly watching the 'good soil' turn to desert and scrub. The rough, barren hard to live in country is my home and is what i equate god's country with. To each there own. This aint a criticism because i loved your story, just another view.
The things that are still alive out here get by on the bare minimum of god's love and never complain. There's a story in there somewhere but i'm not about to steal your thunder!!

Cheers
M4S